Karen’s Story

When my mother was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor five years ago, our friends and family organized a steady stream of homemade meals. Often my siblings and I didn’t realize we were hungry until a casserole would arrive and delicious smells would lure us to the table for a brief respite from our mother’s 24-hour care. After she passed away, I remember my brother who lived out of town saying, “I’m not leaving until the casseroles stop coming!” He loves to eat, but we all realized it wasn’t for the food he hungered. It was the sense of belonging, of being cared for in this most basic way, that he—and we—needed most.

But a year and a half after my mother’s death, my daughter’s discharge from a brief, but serious, hospitalization for a mental illness found us hungry and alone. The hot meals that had sustained us during my mother’s illness were almost nonexistent. The fear and misunderstanding of mental illness kept us isolated and hungry for the healing comfort of belonging. We needed and wanted to know we were not alone.

In the coming months, as I searched for answers to our overwhelming and heartbreaking situation, I stumbled upon the local affiliate of NAMI and quickly signed up for their 12-week Family-to-Family class. I vividly remember spending the first 15 minutes of class quietly sobbing. I looked around the room and saw faces of hopelessness, isolation, desperation and fear. They were the faces of people just like me, people who were struggling and looking for answers, and longing for community. I often say I had joined a club no one wants to belong to, but once I did, it was such a relief to know that there was a community of people who were right there with me.

As each of those next 12 weeks passed, those faces began to show glimmers of hope, confidence and resilience. We shed the blame, shame and guilt that we’d carried in. Our loads had been lightened. Together we found hope, and we found a place where everyone got it. We still didn’t have all of the answers, and for many of us the path would continue to be challenging and heartbreaking.

Theodore Roosevelt once said, “When you're at the end of your rope, tie a knot and hold on.” Through its programming, NAMI provides the tools and support that individuals and families need so they can tie a knot and gain the strength to hold on. When my Family-to-Family class ended, I was not the same person who had quietly sobbed in the first class. I had been transformed, and along the way, so had my family. We gained a hope and belief that we would be okay, and we are.