Voice of Hope

My son was diagnosed with a few different mental health conditions, all of which sounded surreal. How could this be happening to him? Him of all people? He was such a friendly guy, always seemed happy, the life of the party, the party planner in fact, always for the underdog, would give you the shirt off his back, helped people at every opportunity, got great grades, loved people, had an infectious smile and loved life. Or so it seemed.  

We had no family history of mental health conditions so when my son was diagnosed with a mental health condition I was stunned. I had no idea what the signs were nor did I think I had reason to look for them. The signs were there. They were obvious and I wish I had recognized them.

About five years ago my son started to have trouble reading. This was very frustrating to him because he loved reading and was a fast reader. I noticed that he was stumbling through the words while he would read out loud. This was the very first sign that I missed. He was experiencing anxiety which is quite common with depression. At this same time, his grades began to fall which was highly unusual for him. I decided that the failing grades had something to do with his reading but I never connected the failing grades with anxiety. He became severely withdrawn from friends and activities that he loved. He stayed in his room all day. His friends became really worried about him. His appetite decreased. He began to have grandiose ideas and feelings. He was acting very unusual.

One night, after an argument with him, he attempted suicide right in front of us. We were stunned. We didn’t realize that things had become so difficult for him. After a long chat and reassuring our love for him, I told him that we would pretend like that never happened and move forward. What a mistake that was! A couple weeks later he made another attempt at suicide. I immediately took him to the emergency room. From the emergency room they admitted him to a psychiatric hospital for intensive treatment. He stayed for three weeks then transitioned to an outpatient treatment. 

During the outpatient treatments he was allowed to come home for the weekends but his behavior at home scared me. He had made a plan for his next attempt at suicide and told me. He had an extremely difficult time fighting off thoughts of suicide even with intensive treatment. We tried to do outpatient treatment for a couple of months with little success. We thought things were under control and would take him home for a few days. While he was at school his friends kept an extremely close watch on him. They would text me or call me to tell me when my son was behaving abnormally or when they were worried about him. They were lifesavers and I will forever be grateful for his friends! It was evident that he needed to be back in the hospital. The doctors told me he needed the next level of treatment. He was eventually transferred to the state psychiatric hospital. All in all, he stayed in the hospital for almost a year getting treatment and counseling.  

Once he was admitted to the hospital I dedicated my time to learning everything I could about his mental health diagnoses. Some of the things I learned were quite overwhelming and distressful. It took quite a while for me to come to grips with the reality of our situation. I think I was in denial myself. The difficult part was talking to family members about what was happening. Everybody had different opinions, some of which were supportive and some were not. Some of the things I heard from doctors was not supportive either. It was all extremely overwhelming.

I remember the day I came to reality. I told myself that there was a very real, high probability that my son would take his life. I was doing all I knew to do to help him but his battle was great. I felt helpless. At that moment that I realized he could be gone I felt a sense of peace, which sounds very odd. At that moment the only thing I knew to do was to love him. If he left this world during his battle with mental illness he would know that I loved him. Instead of keeping up with my never ending learning of mental health issues I spent my time with him more at peace. My work was to make sure he knew I loved him. That turn of outlook gave me the greatest sense of peace. I could not stop my son at attempting suicide (as much as I tried!) but I could help him see how much I loved him.  

We struggled greatly off and on for the next year. Things did settle. My son learned how to cope with life and his mental health issues. He eventually weaned off all drugs, which I thought would never happen. I thought the mental health diagnosis was a life term. It wasn’t for him or us. He was able to serve as a volunteer missionary which was something he had always wanted to do. Today, five years later, he is back to himself and loving life. He has learned valuable skills to cope with stress and disappointment.

He has been able to speak publicly about his experiences with mental health. I have been amazed by the support he has received in sharing some of his experiences. It seems like sharing these things is powerful, both for the person sharing and the person hearing.

Our road to recovery was rough and long. Many days seemed hopeless. What got me through the darkest days was my faith. I believe God walked with us in every step and so I give Him the credit for where we are today.

I didn’t see or I ignored many of the signs of a mental health issue my son faced. We could have gotten help much sooner if I had known what to look for. I have learned so much from the experiences we had. I want to help other people who may be going through similar situations and circumstances. I want to be a voice of hope. I want people to know that there is help. There are people who care. There are people who understand. There are people who love. I want people to know also that a mental health issue is not always a life sentence but if it is, there are things we can do to find peace.