A mom navigating the what-ifs of mental illness
About a year ago, dear friends of ours lost their son. At the time, my son was facing a newer dimension of his mental health struggles that put us in uncharted territory. And the nemesis my son has fought for the last decade was still here: suicidal ideation.
My heart was shattered for our friends. I found it almost impossible to separate their experience from my fears. They were living the nightmare I’ve been fighting to keep at bay for 10 years. I’ve been living in the “what if.” What if suicidal ideation wins? They were living in the hell of “what is.” Life without their son. There was life before that phone call, and then the new life their family had to begin afterward.
I say all of this because, even with all my experiences with CATCH, my years of therapy, and my son’s struggles since he was 13, even knowing how isolating and lonely this path can be, I kept holding back from reaching out.
What if it’s a good day?
What if they’re doing something that brings them joy and fulfillment?
What if they’ve forgotten for a moment?
And my text reminds them?
Come on. I know better. I never “forget” my son’s struggles. Yes, I feel joy (tons), have good days and moments (lots), and find fulfillment in so many areas of my life. And my son’s mental illness is still there, framing the edges. But I can talk to him, fight alongside him for his mental health, and see him meet the next challenge.
My friends walk past their son’s bedroom every morning. They oversee a memorial fund at his school. They spent the last year learning to take the train to work again (they received the call on the train). And this summer, they took up the hobby their son loved so much, without the ability to enjoy it with him. Yes, they have found a new definition of joy and good days. But there is not a moment when they have forgotten. Their new life can be fulfilling, even as it is framed by an unimaginable loss.
So last Saturday, I took out my phone and sent the note. Short. Simple. I’m here. I see you. I hold each of you in my heart.
Send the note. It matters. I know I want to be seen and supported. A simple message, without any expectation of a response, restores some of my energy to continue the fight. I live a full, joyful life. And I never forget.
Send the text.
