(Originally published in "Times of Israel". Republished here with permission.)
Had you asked me five years ago, I would’ve said that I didn’t
personally know anyone who struggled with mental illness. Those days, my only
awareness of this scourge occurred when I encountered those unfortunate souls who
lived in the subways. Mental illness seemed an issue that had absolutely nothing
to do with me.
On Friday, July 20, 2012, I learned, in fact, that mental illness and I
had a very close relationship when I found my son almost dead, having attempted
to take his own life. At that time I believed this happened without any
warning.
But, in fact, there had been warnings. There had been some acts of poor
judgment that had started materializing in the past year, and certain times
when Jonathan seemed to behave out of character completely, seemed so deeply
sad for no apparent reason. It seemed bizarre, but, other than during these
aberrant stints, he was so “normal”, respectful, helpful, introspective and
analytical, affectionate, and I assumed that these ups and downs were the
expected behavior pattern of a 20 year old adolescent boy. It wasn’t fun, but
it seemed standard. This was the form and depth of our denial.
There was no friend in whom to confide, even in my moments of worry. When
I disclosed some behaviors to certain friends who had adolescent sons, they
didn’t express alarm or suggest anything might be awry. It was easy to stay
blind.
Once the truth pounded our heads with a club and we needed to find a
way to help him, we still had no idea where to turn for information or support.
We were utterly alone and isolated by stigma and ignorance. As far as we were
aware, our terrible problem was unique in our community. Who would have the knowledge
to guide us even if we were willing to reach out?
Over these past four years, I have been contacted by many whose lives
have been disrupted by mental illness. Those who suffer themselves contact me
to understand their parents better. They speak with me about their own behavior
and seek words of comfort that they wish they could hear from their parents. Parents
contact me to ask for referrals for treatment. Or, they present their child’s
behavior and ask if it is possible that these are signs of mental illness. They
almost always deny when I tell them that they might consider that their child
has an illness; I recognize the language of denial. Sometimes, they contact me
to talk about how they feel. Siblings contact me to ask for ideas on how to
help their parents deal with their brother’s/sister’s illness, which is tragically
destroying the family. They ask how they can help their parents “face” the
illness and the steps they can take to survive emotionally. At the end of every
contact, I am thanked profusely, and often tearfully.
With this writing, though there may still be ignorance, I encourage
people to reach out to their friends if they suspect their child is ill, or if
they are already aware of their child’s illness. I appreciate that this is difficult
to do in a society that stigmatizes mental illness.
To those who need help I would say: The stigma is slowly decreasing and
will eventually go away; don’t wait until it’s gone. Don’t wait, because there
is too much at stake and you might not have the luxury of time, as I didn’t.
Don’t stop with one friend; that “pearl of wisdom” that you need may reside
with the next friend, or the next. Don’t
be afraid of being judged. Even if your friend is not able to offer advice, you
may get the support so essential to help you soldier on.
I had no “Ruth” to whom to turn because of our own, and others’, fear
of stigma. Now, with deeper understanding, I am gratified to be able to help
others; it won’t bring Jonathan back to us, but it is the only thing that
brings some measure of healing. People call me courageous as a result. That
adjective isn’t accurate; I simply envision myself in a “post-judgmental” and “de-stigmatized”
world, and act accordingly.
To those who need the support or can offer it, I promise that in taking
this approach you won’t be sorry. You may discover that others share these very
same issues; you may decide to check your assumptions. Your burden may be
lessened. For certain, you will be helped, and you will help someone else, and with
that you will have made an enormous difference.
