All language subtitles for locked_up_abroad_s12e02_trauma_express

The series of traumatic events shattered
my whole soul into like a million

freaking pieces.

I had no

idea how much I was going to suffer.

Something was eating me alive.

But I was too caught up with ripping my
soul in half.

To stop.

All you have to do is check it in.

I was in some kind of manic state.

From that point it was like there was no
going back.

I grew up in a small beach town.

I was hungry for life.

Definitely a dreamer.

I wanted to experience everything, you
know.

So I just threw myself into the wind.

I'd left Australia to go travelling in
Africa.

I wanted to work with orphanages and
children's hospitals.

People think that I'm just like some
carefree hippie, but, you know, you

judge a book by its cover.

I was trying to process the grief of my
son dying the year before.

My son's name was Shamaya, Shamaya
Rainbow.

My little angel.

He was like me, you know, always smiling
and, like, we were always smiling and

laughing.

They said he had bowel obstruction.

He just, like, slipped away peacefully.

I'm grateful that he chose me, that I
got to know him.

But it was also, like, you know, the
biggest tragedy in my life.

You think the worst has happened.

It cannot get any worse.

After my son died, I was raped just like
two months after.

Just absolutely devastating. I can't
even begin to explain.

Yeah, you know, it was all just too much
pain.

And I actually wanted to get away.

It's actually quite common. A lot of
people actually do travel to deal with

grief.

In Africa, travelling alone, you're
never alone.

There are so many beautiful, good
people.

Nice van!

After what I've been through,

I really needed to be connected to joy.

It was like just making friends and
being open to

life.

I was dancing with my new friends,

good times, and I was always
surrendering to the moment.

The whole time I was, like, so aware of
my bag.

But I was distracted by my beautiful boy
and, yeah, I was busy dancing

with him.

My handbag

got snatched.

It had my passport, my wallet,
everything.

My head was just kind of spinning.

At the time, I didn't realise the
significance of that moment.

I caught the bus down to South Africa.

I went straight to the embassy there in
Pretoria.

Hey, my passport got stolen.

Can I get another one?

After filling out all the paperwork and
everything... When can I pick it up?

They said it was going to be like at
least three months.

The embassy gave me a loan of $350.

If I was going to be there for three
months, I was like, well, thanks.

I'm out of here. I'm going to the beach.

One day I went to this restaurant.

There was only two people there, one man
and one woman.

And he saw me as I sat down.

He just got up and he walked over to me.

Hello.

You look like you like to travel.

Yeah, I love to travel.

I'm in the business of trafficking.

What?

And he said trafficking like marijuana,
gold, cocaine

and passports.

I was like, wow, man, like, what a way
to, like, introduce yourself.

And he said that he wanted me to traffic
weed.

Yeah,

I was, like, utterly unimpressed, to say
the least. But even still, he gave

me his number.

He went back to having his lunch.

That was it, really.

While I was waiting for my passport, I
started getting, like, really sick.

I started feeling like something was
eating me alive.

Soon after, I was at the supermarket and
just felt so weak.

I just literally passed out.

And I thought, this isn't normal, this
can't be normal.

Something's really wrong.

I knew I needed help.

At the hospital, the blood test showed
that I had malaria.

You've just had your malaria test.

But now it was, like, cleared.

Well, like, what's wrong with me then?

The lady said, you know, just super
casually, You've got to go get tested

HIV.

As soon as she said it, I knew it.

I knew that I had it.

The torture of sitting there waiting.

I was just trying to hold on to hope.

Bronwyn Abbott.

Finally, my time came.

The doctor, he told me the result.

Your HIV test.

It was positive.

I just couldn't believe it. I was just
more just in shock.

I've got the right stuff here for you
that's going to help.

These one four times a day.

He was kind of saying all this stuff
about the medicine.

I just have to get all these other
tests.

And these four times a day.

I've also got these.

And I just wanted to get out of there.

I'm only 22 years old and now getting
diagnosed with HIV.

The person that infected me, I'm not 100
% sure. All I know is that after, like,

that rape in Melbourne, before I left
Australia, I could feel something going

on in my body.

But right now, it didn't matter.

What mattered was that I had it

and that there was no going back.

I really needed to call my mum.

I was so, like, fractured.

She started to cry and said that she was
sorry. And I'm like, it's not your

fault. And yeah, you know.

She wanted me to come home and she
wanted to take care of me.

But I didn't want to go back home.

Just come home, Bronwyn.

No, no, no, no, but Mum, I'm not ready
to come back.

And I told her that I didn't want to
take the medicine either.

Please, please don't do this.

I didn't like the concept of having to
take pills every day in order to

You know, and my mother, like, you know,
just had to, like, accept my

decision.

I love you, Bronwyn. I love you, Mom.

Bye.

What wasn't destroyed in my son's death
was, like, definitely destroyed now.

From that point on, I had accepted my
own death.

I didn't want to take the meds. I wanted
to be in heaven with my son.

From that point, it was like...

I actually didn't care.

I was just so driven by destruction by
this point that I wasn't thinking

clearly.

I went to the Nigerian guy.

And I told him I had decided that I
wanted to traffic the weed.

I'm ready to do it.

But then he tells me... You know, if you
take the cocaine, it's the same risk

as the weed, but you get more money.

$15 ,000.

I thought that with all the money...

I could get a house on the ocean
somewhere and just live out the rest of

there in paradise and just like die
happily and seeing my son again.

I agreed to take the cocaine from Peru
to Spain.

From the moment that I accepted, it was
like jumping on a train and it's just

like flying past all the stops.

I can't stop it.

I arrive in Peru.

They had told me to get in contact as
soon as I got there.

This number has been disconnected.

This is incredibly frustrating.

All the phone numbers were disconnected.

That was it. They just disappeared into
thin air.

I'm alone in the world that left a
friend for myself.

It was stressful.

Hello? Yeah.

I've been waiting.

What's been happening?

Finally, the contact called to meet me.

Listen, you get some real bad characters
in this business.

But as you can see, I'm a much more
professional unit.

Carlos seemed like a nice guy, you know?
Like he didn't look like some hardcore

criminal.

And I told him about, you know, like the
HIV stuff.

You know,

he was...

sympathetic with what had happened
recently.

He promised that he would take care of
me.

I want you to start moving some cocaine
for us.

Carlos arranged for me to traffic a bag
of cocaine.

He said he would pay for a hotel.

He gave me money to be comfortable while
I was waiting.

It seemed as if it was like an answered
prayer.

My state of mind was altered.

I was going through massive trauma,
trafficking cocaine.

It seemed like not much of a big deal in
comparison to what I was going through.

That morning, one of the Peruvian guys
came over to deliver the bag.

It's an empty suitcase, like it's a
suitcase.

What? Where are the drugs?

There's no drugs inside.

The cocaine was in the material embedded
inside fabric.

Could have cocaine in it.

It has five kilos in its fabric.

He said there's less risk because it can
pass through all the scanners.

At the time, I didn't realize I was in
some kind of

manic state.

The energy was actually taking me in the
wrong direction.

I got off course completely.

But when you get into that manic
state... Thank you very much.

You think you are invincible.

Nothing bad is going to happen.

I was so wrong.

I arrive in Spain and...

Everybody's waiting for their luggage.

It's announced that some of the bags
have been lost from Peru.

No way is this bag missing.

This is...

My mood is

crashing.

All I could do was go along with what
everyone else was doing, like filling

the forms.

But then part of me was like, oh, should
I do that?

I just trafficked this cocaine and,
like, it's got my name on it.

I just wanted to get out of there.

I was going to call my mum and say that
I got into some trouble and I needed

some money to get away.

But it would have been devastating for
her.

So I called Carlos.

It's me, Bronwyn.

And I told him, like, what had happened.

Carlos was like...

Forget that stupid bag. It's over.

Don't worry about it.

It's all good I got you. I will take
care of you, right?

It was just kind of like, yeah, like a
relief.

And then he told me that he wanted me to
get back to Lima to traffic cocaine.

I should have just like walked away.

I had just made like a big mistake.

Yeah, I will pay for it for the rest of
my life.

Carlos was there for me straight away
after I was left stranded.

I definitely felt like I owed it to him
to come back to Lima.

He met me at the hotel and explained the
deal.

Okay, so?

It was going to be in between 9 to 12
kilos of cocaine.

This time it will be bagged in a
suitcase.

All you have to do is check it in.

Is that it?

Understand, my life was out of control.

That's it.

Just checking in. Life had just been
insane since my son died.

I was too caught up with ripping my soul
in half to stop.

So I agreed.

I have something else.

Voila.

Carlos said they were sending me
business class.

Come on, try it on.

And I had to look like some young,
beautiful businesswoman.

They didn't want me looking like some
hippie.

That morning, I felt horrible.

I felt terrible. I felt, like, sick to
my stomach.

I wasn't paying attention to my gut
instinct.

They told me I had to not take my
guitar.

Oh, come on, Carlos, this is my baby.

I did not want to let go of my guitar.

I'm going to fly a business class.

Let me take it.

I'd had that guitar.

All through my pregnancy and me being
with my son and everything, you know, it

was very special to me.

Hey, hey, hey.

It was the last thing I had left from
that life.

Don't worry.

You look amazing.

Letting it go was like having to part
with part of my soul.

I felt like...

Something isn't right.

I should get out of this.

Just tell him to stop and get out.

But by that time, we arrive at the
airport and

there was no going back.

And I see there's a big bag.

That bag.

is full of coke and then he's at the

trolley thing and the trolley is stuck

and i feel the universe is telling me
like

go go now

right

when i was like having that thought

The trolley became unstuck.

In that moment, I sealed my fate.

I just went through the motions.

Did you pass this yourself, ma 'am?

Uh -huh.

On the scalp, please.

When I went to lift the bag, It could
barely pick it up.

It was like over 25 kilos.

Those idiots, like why would they make
the bag so heavy?

Got a bit carried away in the shops.

The lady at the checkout, she gives me
my ticket.

She tells me have a nice flight.

That was actually all I had to do.

was checking the bag i'm just like
feeling like like like so relieved like

carlos had told me

sometimes they have cops that will
actually come and escort you like onto

plane and this police guy comes up to me
and i thought oh cool maybe he's just

gonna like just take me through

But he says to me, can you please come
over here?

And I'm thinking, what's going on?

They took me to this, like, holding room
there in the airport.

Is this your bag?

They were asking me, can you open the
bag for us?

I was just, like, saying, like, it's my
friend's bag. I don't know the code.

I'm

definitely

thinking, like, I am busted.

I knew that I just got busted.

I wasn't feeling emotional.

I was feeling numb and a bit in shock.

It was all very like surreal.

One of the cops broke open the bag.

In it was these bags that had the
cocaine in them.

This is crazy.

I didn't know what was in the bag
either.

So each thing that they pulled out was
like a surprise to me.

It was 18 kilos.

Of cocaine.

All up.

That is a lot of cocaine.

Who gave you the drugs?

I can't even remember.

I had no intention of snitching on
anyone.

She said, you're going to go to jail.

And I said, yeah.

Yeah, I know.

They transported me to Santa Monica
Prison in Lima.

I thought that I knew what I had got
myself into, but I had no idea

how much I was going to suffer.

The first night,

It was cold.

It's so packed in.

My mind and my emotions, they're just
spinning.

That train that had been, like,
controlling my life since Africa, it had

smashed into a wall, like, and it just
hit the stop.

That was it.

There's no way out.

That's the thing about prison.

Without even knowing that it's
happening, you're wired like so tight,

you're on the edge.

You know, you're hypervigilant.

Everything is super hardcore.

Anyone can steal anything from you any
minute.

You're in high stress.

Everything is at its absolute peak.

It takes strength to not act out.

When you get locked up, that's when you
realise who's really important in your

life and what love is.

Mum? Ronnie, Ronnie, where are you?

I'm... I'm in prison.

Ronnie, what's happened?

Are you OK?

I got caught trafficking cocaine.

I haven't been sentenced yet.

My mother worried for me. She knows I'm
sick.

Listen, Bronnie, I can fly over there.

She wanted to visit me, but there's no
point my mum spending the money to come

over. It's better that we wait.

Stay strong.

I love you, Bronnie.

I've got to go.

Like, knowing that, like, I had my mum's
support, like...

and it was really important to me.

After a couple of months of being there,
came time for me to get my sentencing.

I had these thoughts that I'm getting
out of here soon.

The other girls had told me that they
would get out, you know, about two

two and a half years, some like one year
and a half even.

I could deal with a couple of years.

The judge, he sentenced me to 17 years,
one year a kilo.

Like soul -destroying.

I thought that life was over.

It is such a heavy weight to carry that
sentence on your shoulder.

No matter how much you've seen on TV,
you do not know what it is to be locked

until you are locked up.

I had no idea what was coming.

One night, I had a massive fever.

My whole blanket was saturated and
mattress on the floor.

And I'd been violently ill.

I couldn't see properly.

When I first got diagnosed with HIV, I
refused to take any meds.

I was, you know, content to just like
die on a beautiful beach somewhere.

But to die in prison would just be
horrible. I didn't want it to be like

And so I went to go and see the doctor.

She told me... I had a super high amount
of HIV and I needed to be on

the meds.

You should start now.

Going to jail changed my perspective on
things.

I had decided that I wanted to live, and
not just for me, also for my mum, you

know, as well.

In prison, people are scared of people
that have HIV.

A lot of people obviously, like, found
out that I had it.

Every friend I ever had, people would go
and tell them, you know, hey, stay away

from her, she has HIV.

It just hurts.

So you have to, like, harden your heart.

And that is not a good thing.

There are 2 ,000 people in a prison that
has capacity for 300, so it was so

packed.

There's, like, a whole floor that just
is for the mothers with children.

It's hard to see them there.

Your heart just breaks for them.

It was intense because my son died at
three.

It was just like, you know, that
constant reminder.

One day, there was, like, the smell of
smoke.

People kind of, like, went out to the
courtyard.

Yeah.

All of a sudden, there was someone
rushing a baby off to the medical

This foreigner girl actually got, like,
bad postnatal depression.

and was trying to set her baby on fire.

It was brutal.

All that epic trauma of losing my own
son started hitting me hard.

I realized I had been running from my
grief

of my son dying.

That trauma, like, shattered my whole
soul into, like, a million freaking

pieces.

It changes who you are.

And because of that, I really screwed up
my life in a major way.

I had gotten onto the wrong path.

But at that point... Oh, I think that it
was too late.

to change the course of my life.

Sorry.

Being in prison, I don't see it as
anyone's fault but my own.

That's on me, like, that's my problem.

But when you get locked up, you realise
you need help in a way that you've never

needed it before.

And knowing that my mum had my back
meant a lot, yeah.

There had been four years in the prison
when my mummy came.

You know, I realised how much my pain
and suffering has made her suffer.

I felt like I bring shame on my family.

It's OK.

You're going to fight to get out of
here. Do you understand me?

There are people in Australia that know
about you.

We started a crowdfunding.

She told me my friends created a website
and donation space.

We all need you to be strong.

My mum helped run the website.

And, yeah, like, I'm so grateful for
that.

I love you, Bonnie. I love you, Mum.

Such a powerful thing to be, like,
blessed by kindness like that.

Thanks to my mum, thousands of people
wrote to me.

People sent me money.

I didn't expect people to really care.

Now I had money to get a lawyer.

I could afford to fight to get out.

This lawyer said that I had to speak to
a psychiatrist.

The psychiatrist

was like really, really good.

I got diagnosed with fast cycling
bipolar.

I had an EEG.

It showed that I had, like, a normal
brain wave in the section where, like,

controls personality and mood.

That right there, I was just, like,
smashed into a new reality.

I believe this series of traumatic
events...

Made me bipolar.

My son died when I was 21.

I think that on some level I blamed
myself for my son's death because I

with him.

A few months later, getting infected
with HIV.

Your HIV test was positive.

That was the piece of straw that broke
the camel's back.

$15 ,000.

Being mentally ill.

affected my decision, absolutely.

All you have to do is check it in.

Is that it?

Just check it in.

I put myself in danger, like, all the
time.

Being able to get into, like, many
states and just have, like, the best

ever.

You know, the next minute, I could be
crashing, screeching to a halt.

That energy, it had control of my life.

Having the neurological evidence to
prove insanity at the time of the crime

meant a possibility that I could get my
freedom.

So this might be enough to get me
parole.

But I was at the mercy of the court in
such a profound

way.

It was out of my control.

You can't even imagine the anxiety of
waiting for that decision.

When I called to find out whether or not
I got my freedom or not, it was like

the phone call.

Hi, it's Bronwyn Atkinson here.

A little dreading that, you know, maybe
something happened and it got postponed.

But when he said, yeah, I got my
freedom.

Are you serious? I said, yes, I can
leave.

I was like thinking, oh, my God, like,
this is crazy. Like, it's finally going

to happen. Like, I'm going to get out of
here.

Finally, the day came when I did get my
freedom.

I went in at 23 and came out when I was
31.

I got to know myself in the most
profound way.

Now I realise getting caught was
literally life, like, stopping me

in order to save me.

Flew back to Australia nine months later
in 2018.

My parents were there to meet me.

My smile was like ear to ear.

Today, I live out in the forest. I live
far away from all the stress.

I still deal with mental illness, like,
every day of my life. Like, same as I

have to deal with all these other
illnesses that I have every single day.

I have always used music and art to heal
myself.

And, you know, what really helps is
gratitude.

Being able to be grateful for the things
that are good.

You know, I've already wasted so much of
my life and I don't want to waste any

more time.

Yeah.