Eight Years Out
Last Friday night our son got home late from a game at school. He’s concessions manager for the school’s stand at sporting events, and takes great pride in his work running a school money-maker. It was homecoming weekend and myself, his sister and his grandfather were able to take a “senior walk” with him between games, while, sadly, his dad was traveling. So, he’s a senior… and he’s happy to have been accepted to a trade school and is following his interest in electronics.
Eight years ago I didn’t know if he’d live through high school. Depression and rage were so much a part of our daily life it was hard to imagine a day without it; a future for him, for any of us. Our dreams for him always included a happy, joyful life, but that didn’t match our reality eight years ago.
We had to admit him for his safety and it turned out that was the right path, at that time. We took many, many paths along that 11 years to get to that point. He’d seen countless counselors, a behaviorist, a psychiatrist and a lot of home spun therapy (Gage and I recently came across a story of animals that we made using stuffed animals of his that finally broke through the heartache and rage to the deeper heartache and healing). We had some understanding friends and family members, and his school, wow, they tried day after day to reach him and make an impact and they really did.
Unlike with failing kidneys you need dialysis or a transplant, with mental health, you’re never really sure. It’s a leap of faith and a lesson in persistence to try treatment after treatment until something is right for you, for your body, for your life style. Finding treatment for our son, was a bit like driving in dense fog. Sometimes we saw a little bit ahead and sometimes we didn’t but we did keep driving, ever so slowly.
So many things have helped him become stable… time, maturity, a small school, counselors, caring educators and his resilience. Things can get better. Keep driving. You are not alone. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255 24/7 and for Crisis Texting.
The story over the years, starts here, Driving Away.
On this Day of Suicide Prevention, I remember
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Good luck Gage!