Daarina Zakiyyah Jefferson

My name is Daarina Jefferson, and my story is about how I survived one of my biggest challenges to date: living with moyamoya syndrome. Before I begin telling you my story, I want to share that I’m a wife, mother of two, and grandmother to one precious baby girl. I’m also a survivor, and here is my testimony.

The date was June 23, 2019. I woke up feeling unwell. The right side of my head felt numb, and I remember that I kept “fanning” that side of my head. My husband took me to the ER, where the doctors ran tests. They said that I had experienced a transient ischemic attack, which meant that I had suffered a mild stroke. I followed up with my specialist, who referred me to a neurosurgeon who was excellent and would eventually help me, as I will explain.

On July 21, 2019, I suffered a second stroke. I remember being in the hospital and being told that I had moyamoya syndrome. For the next year, I traveled to New York twice to see a neurosurgeon. I felt that I was being given the runaround and that no surgeon wanted to take my case. I felt defeated and believed I would have to live with moyamoya syndrome for the rest of my life.

Then COVID hit us hard. My mental health took a hit, and I was spiraling out of control. My husband and I got into a fight, and the next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. He said that I needed to get help, so I was admitted to a psychiatric facility.

In March 2021, I was an inpatient at this horrific facility! The things I witnessed there and how scared I was… Wow! I remember one of the first responders who came to drop off a patient taking me on a gurney and transporting me to another facility! I remember being scared, crying, and saying to myself, “Why me, God?” Later that afternoon, I was brought back to the original psychiatric facility.

My “aha” moment came when one of the aides told me that just because I had a court date didn’t mean I couldn't go home before then. That was when I decided to put in the work and show myself and the staff that I was stable enough to go home.

On April 15, 2021, I was discharged from the facility.

In the summer of 2021, I received a phone call from the original neurosurgeon, who asked if any surgeon had agreed to perform my brain surgery. I said that no one was willing to take my case. He then said that he and his team would perform the surgery. I was so grateful, yet nervous at the thought of having my brain operated on. At that point, we began running tests to make sure I was medically cleared for surgery.

The date was December 17, 2021. My surgery was scheduled for 7 a.m. My husband and I arrived at about 6:30 a.m. Once I was prepped for surgery, I was wheeled into the OR. I remember being put to sleep, and when I opened my eyes, the first thing that hit me was a cold sensation on my head. I had been told that my hair had been shaved off. The surgical staff was removing a tube, and I kept gagging on it. Finally, the tube was removed.

I was wheeled into the Neuro ICU, where I spent the first two days recovering. My mom came to see me and took some pictures. The staff said she couldn't take pictures, but I told them it was okay.

After those two days, I was transferred to a room that I shared with another patient. Although I should have stayed there to recover for the full week, I had to be discharged abruptly because of the rise in COVID cases at the hospital. My mom came, picked me up, and took me to her house to complete my recovery. I was determined to get back on my feet because of my daughter, Taylor, who was in kindergarten at the time. I felt that time was of the essence.

Every day, I found the courage to get up and move around. Mind you, this process took place during my daughter's winter break from school. When it was time for her to return to school, I was ready! It wasn't easy at first. Keep in mind that I had just undergone surgery, and we were still in the middle of the COVID pandemic. I was also still getting used to having my hair completely shaved off. It was my husband's idea to have my hair shaved. When he told me, I was hurt, but I understood why he had made that decision.

Next came the follow-up process. First, I had angiograms. They weren't too bad, just a little uncomfortable, but I handled them with grit! Then I had to undergo MRIs. Those were THE MOST uncomfortable experiences I had ever endured. I recently had to undergo two MRIs. Sheesh! As I mentioned earlier, the follow-ups are still ongoing.

At this point, I'm feeling more active, and my mobility is improving. There were times when I felt my recovery was rushed and wished I had had more time to process the ordeal of having brain surgery. Wow! When I type the words “brain surgery,” they now have a different effect on me. I feel empowered when I say, “I survived my brain surgery!” Hallelujah!

When it comes to my side effects, I have to be honest. There are times when my brain is functioning well, and other times when I experience some memory loss. I just have to remember to follow my surgeon's instructions and take my medication every day. It's not easy because I'm already taking medication for bipolar disorder. When I write those words on paper, they resonate differently.

Speaking of bipolar disorder, I have to say that I have endured many storms. Some were due to my own lack of knowledge, while others resulted from a lack of support from certain family members. There were times when I lashed out at my loved ones after I was first diagnosed in 2001. The first three years were very difficult because I was combative and didn't want to accept the fact that I had this mental disorder. I kept getting in my own way and was unwilling to accept that this was my new normal.

I was in and out of psychiatric hospitals. One in particular was very unprofessional. I remember that one of the aides who worked at the hospital scared me! The individual's treatment of me gave me pause. Even though I had medication in my system, I still remember the devilish look in those eyes! The person was racist and referred to me using the “n-word.” While I was at this hospital, I lost a very valuable gold chain. I was very upset and tried to return to see if the staff had recovered it.

After I was discharged in 2004, I was stable enough to take care of my son, who was four years old at the time. I remained stable for the next seventeen years. Then COVID hit us. It hit us HARD! I remember not being able to leave the house for six weeks. Having to wear masks all the time and stand six feet apart was crazy because you never knew whether someone standing nearby had caught COVID.

At that point, I was approaching a manic episode. I felt that all the demons I had yet to deal with came rushing at me, and I just couldn't handle it. I got into an argument with my husband, and he had me admitted to the psychiatric ward. He said that he was afraid for our daughter at the time.

Because of my manic episode, I was admitted to the local hospital first. Then, I was transported to a psychiatric facility in the middle of the night. This facility was definitely “one for the books,” meaning it had a lot of “unsavory characters” among its patients. I understand that patients have their crosses to bear; however, I believe the facility purposely focused on the “unsavory.” There were nights when I was scared to be there. I felt like I was in prison.

One night, a transporter was bringing in a patient and asked if I wanted to go with them. I don't know why I said “yes,” but I did. The next thing I knew, I was being transported to another facility. I was crying and scared! Then I was placed in what I can only describe as a jail cell because it had long bars. I was later brought back to the original facility, where I continued my treatment. I was discharged in April 2021.

About six months later, I received a call from the neurosurgeon. He asked if I had undergone surgery for my moyamoya syndrome. I said, “No.” He said that he would take my case and perform the surgery. My surgery was scheduled for December 17, 2021. I remember feeling very nervous and anxious. My surgery took about 12 hours. By the time I woke up, it was already 7 p.m. My head felt cold, and I realized that my hair had been shaved off. I was transferred to the Neuro ICU for the first two days. Then I moved to a regular room, where I was supposed to continue my recovery. I was supposed to stay in the hospital for a week, but because of a spike in COVID cases at the hospital, I had to leave after four days.

Then I went to my mother's house to complete my recovery. My mom and dad were instrumental in my recovery. I felt as though I was on a timetable because my daughter was on winter break from elementary school at the time. To this day, I sometimes feel that I didn't give myself enough time to recover properly from the surgery. Nevertheless, I was able to go home in time to resume my motherly duties.

Since the surgery, I have had to attend several follow-up appointments. I've undergone angiograms, which are very uncomfortable. I've also had MRIs, which are even worse than the angiograms. But my neurosurgeon has been a godsend throughout this whole process. I am forever grateful that he performed my surgery.

Nevertheless, this journey is definitely one for the books. Yet, I am rising like a phoenix from the ashes. I'm still writing my story and living out my dreams. There are days when I don't have the energy to do anything, yet somehow, I get up and complete my tasks. I keep my “why” in mind: my husband, children, and granddaughter.

In conclusion, this is me, Daarina, in a nutshell. I'm a wife, mother, and grandmother who has survived moyamoya syndrome while living with bipolar disorder. Thank you for reading my story. May it empower you as I continue to soar to greater heights.

By Daarina "Nina" Jefferson

Women carry worlds on their shoulders. We are daughters, mothers, leaders, caregivers, entrepreneurs, partners, and visionaries. Yet behind the strength, productivity, and resilience, many women are silently battling anxiety, depression, trauma, burnout, and emotional exhaustion. Women's mental health deserves more than awareness. It deserves attention, compassion, and action.

Why Women's Mental Health Matters

According to the World Health Organization, women are more likely than men to experience depression and anxiety disorders. Hormonal changes, societal expectations, caregiving responsibilities, trauma exposure, and workplace inequities all play a role.

But statistics don't tell the whole story. Many women are high-functioning while hurting. They show up. They smile. They perform. Yet internally, they are overwhelmed, overstimulated, and emotionally drained.

The Hidden Pressures Women Face

1. The Pressure to "Hold It All Together"

Women are often expected to be the emotional anchors of families, workplaces, and communities. When everyone leans on you, who do you lean on?

2. Hormonal and Biological Factors

Hormonal shifts during menstruation, pregnancy, the postpartum period, and menopause can significantly impact mood and mental stability. These are not "mood swings"-they are physiological realities.

3. Trauma and Unspoken Pain

Women experience high rates of domestic violence, sexual assault, and emotional abuse. Many carry trauma silently due to shame, fear, or cultural stigma.

4. The Social Media Comparison Trap

In today's digital world, women are constantly exposed to unrealistic standards of beauty, success, motherhood, and lifestyle. Comparison quietly erodes self-worth.

Breaking the Silence

Healing begins when silence ends. Women need safe spaces to speak openly about:

• Anxiety without being labeled "dramatic"
• Depression without being called "ungrateful"
• Exhaustion without being called "lazy"
• Boundaries without being called "selfish"

Mental health is not a weakness. It is health.

Practical Steps Toward Healing

• Normalize therapy. Seeking help is strength, not failure.
• Build a support circle. Even one safe person makes a difference.
• Prioritize rest. Rest is not a reward-it is a necessity.
• Set boundaries. You cannot pour from an empty cup.
• Tell your story. Your voice may be someone else's survival guide.

A Global Call to Care

Women's mental health is not just a personal issue-it is a public health issue. When women are mentally well, families thrive, businesses grow, and communities strengthen.

We must move from silence to support. From stigma to understanding. From surviving to healing.

Because strong women deserve strong support systems.

And no woman should suffer in silence.

Now, you’re probably wondering, “Why did she choose this as a title?” Well, once you read this article, you will better understand why I chose this title. My hope is that all those who are currently battling mental illnesses know that they are not alone in this fight.

With that said, here’s my story.

My name is Daarina, aka “Nina” Jefferson, but you can call me Nina. I have had bipolar disorder since 2001.

It was Thanksgiving 2001, and I was “dating” a guy who was my co-worker at the time. The night before, I was feeling strange and woke up still feeling “off.” So, while we were on our way to my uncle’s house for Thanksgiving dinner, he took a detour and ended up in downtown Newark. Next, he started asking me questions, as if he were picking my brain. Here I was, thinking he was getting ready to propose marriage to me, but instead, he pulled out a set of keys. I took the keys, jumped out of the car, and tried to break into the car that was parked in front of us. Wow! Talk about bizarre! So, he got scared! He drove off and left me stranded! Can you believe that?!

As I digress, I became very erratic. I was wandering in the streets and somehow made it to a nearby hotel. When I got there, I did the unthinkable! I took off all my clothes and walked around in my birthday suit until the first responders arrived. Then, I was transported to a nearby hospital. I was given a shot of some type of tranquilizer and fell asleep. When I woke up, I felt groggy and dazed. At first, I tried to leave, but the security guard was NOT HAVING that! So, for the next six weeks, I received treatment and was initially diagnosed with schizophrenia. Then, the psychiatrist finally gave me a definitive diagnosis of bipolar disorder. I was upset and confused when I was told. I kept asking God, “Why?”

I was then discharged from that hospital. I spent the next three years going in and out of psychiatric hospitals until I was finally discharged on June 4, 2004.

For the next 17 years, I was stable. I found the love of my life, got married, and had a daughter (I had already had my son from a previous relationship by then). We moved to a location where the people were much friendlier and the area was safer. Everything was going great until COVID hit!

When COVID first hit, everything shifted quickly! I couldn’t cope with or adjust to the new norm. I was lashing out at my family, bashing them on social media, and didn’t care whom I hurt. Looking back on that, I realize I was having some severe manic episodes. It had gotten to the point that my husband and I had a fight! That’s how I knew things had reached the point of no return.

My husband had to save me from myself, him, and our daughter, who was five at the time. He took me to the hospital because he was afraid of me and knew I couldn’t recover until I got help. So, I was transported to a facility at 3 a.m. while I was tired and sleeping. I spent 22 days and 21 nights there receiving treatment.

This time, I was determined to NEVER return to this or any other psychiatric facility again!

Since my last discharge from that psychiatric facility, I’m extremely proud to say that I’m living a fulfilling, productive lifestyle. I take my medications regularly. I also practice self-care by getting my hair done every two months. I so LOVE getting my hair done!!! Next, I’ll be working on getting my nails and feet done. Going clothes shopping is also on my agenda!!

I reflect daily on how God has brought me through those trying periods in my life. I’m more keenly aware and much more humble these days. I find myself writing more articles, such as this one for the magazine. As I digress, having this mental disorder can be challenging, but it’s also rewarding!

Now that you have read my story, I’m wondering, “What are your thoughts on it?” By now, I hope that, if nothing else, this article will inspire and educate you. If one person can change people’s minds regarding this topic, I would rather it be me. I speak again from a place of experience and hope.

As I continue, I have a podcast show titled “Nina: I Am NOT My Illness,” which is available on Spotify for Podcasters, Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, and a few other platforms. There, I use my experience with bipolar disorder to make a positive, global impact. I have 21 active followers, and listeners in 63 countries. To tell you the truth, it feels so surreal that my show is reaching listeners domestically and globally. I don’t take this for granted; I’m very humble and grateful for the support of my audience.

It’s not easy to produce podcast episodes and then market them daily, so I take my hat off to fellow podcasters who are monetizing and marketing their shows. I’ve had my show for six years now, and sometimes I feel like a small fish in a shark-infested ocean. But I have to remind myself what my purpose is. The fact that I do not record as much as the next podcast host should not have a bearing on me. I will definitely have to keep that in mind.

By the way, I am also a brand ambassador for THREE clothing lines. They are “Runway Redi,” “Just Strong,” and “Known In Heaven.” Is that AMAZING?! I am still in awe!!

Also, I’m now a published author on Amazon, having written two books. Make sure you check them out today!

So, that’s who I am, in a nutshell. If my story has resonated with you, I appreciate that. Remember, you are more than your mental illness.

Thank you for reading my story!