Another Perspective From An Anonymous Mom

I had somewhat of a surprise the other day.  I was at a basketball game and Tru Stories neighbor (Bride's Father) gave me a newspaper article.  It was sent from Arizona by Tru Stories other neighbor, Street Sweeper.  Come to find out, Street Sweeper reads my blog.  The day after I wrote, He's Home (December 19th), an article appeared in a Tuscon paper written by another Mom about her mentally ill son.  Unfortunately, it was anonymous.  I would have liked to contact her. 
Here is the article:

I'm writing this not because I want to but because I must.  I sit here on my couch watching newscasters and experts on TV talking about the horrific mass killing at the school in Newtown, Conn.
They're grabbing at straws trying to "understand" what could make someone do this.  Somehow they want it to make sense.  I want to shake these bright, articulate people who surf high-speed through each day dialed in to Facebook, Twitter and the best blogs so they can "know what's going on."
I want them to listen to me, a mother whose life has been derailed by watching mental illness engulf a cherished, golden-boy son, a mother who, only through relentless persistence and a willingness to abandon her "normal" life, has been able to get help for her son.
I believe my journey allows a degree of insight into "how this can happen."  So often "decision-makers" don't seem to have a clue about mental illness and how hard it can be to get help for someone in its grasp.
The actions of the mentally ill don't "make sense."  Killing a grandfather because you think he's stealing your energy doesn't make sense.  Shooting yourself because God showed you a shooting star doesn't make sense.  Beating someone senseless because they gave you seven M&M's instead of eight doesn't make sense.
Forgive me, but this is why they call it, "crazy."  The parents and family members of the mentally ill - "get this."
Believe me, I used to be one of the oblivious.  I didn't want to have anything to do with mental illness - nothing.  No, thank you!
That's all changed for me.  I've spent the last five years on a horrendous roller coaster of calling police to corral my son, of visiting him in the mental hospitals in two states, of not knowing where he is.
Who can explain what it's like to watch a bright, idealistic mind imprisoned by paranoia and the "false, fixed beliefs" that are trademarks of the seriously mentally ill.  It's hard to explain to people.
If you want to understand a young man who walks into a classroom, a theater, a grocery store parking lot or an elementary school and simply begins killing people, then, by God, you need to understand mental illness.
Psychosis is a strange territory where the normal laws of cause and effect don't apply, where everything your mother taught you has evaporated like a drop of water on a hot iron, where you're operating solo by a bizarre set of rules totally your own.
One must stand witness at close range to know the strangeness of psychosis.
And then there's the severe depression that leaves so many young men feeling alone, unable to connect with a confusing, hostile society.
The isolation leaves them feeling angry, impotent and desperate - desperate enough to take up arms in a perverted attempt to take a stand against a world where they can't find the welcome mat.
So often, it's these terribly ill young men, in these altered states, who are doing the killing.
People ask, "Why don't the sick young men get help?"
Well, let me be clear.  These sick young men don't want help.  They are too sick to know they need help.  And what about the parents?  "Why don't they get help for these young men?"
And this is where I want to scream the loudest.  I want to shout, "Do you know how hard this can be?"
I can't tell you how many times I called the police, the doctors, the nurses and I was told, "I'm sorry ma'am, but if he hasn't threatened harm to himself or to others, then there's nothing we can do" or "Ma'am, I'm afraid that in our society we all have the right to make bad decisions as long as we're not harming ourselves or others."
So what they are telling me is that nothing can be done until something really horrible is imminent or has or has happened.
It's an illness, a brain disease that is very often treatable.  I know major changes in law and health care protocol must take place, but let's get busy and do whatever it takes to put the following in place:

- Take early symptoms seriously.
- Screen every young person from 18 to 28 for mental illness.
- Respond when someone seeks help for a mentally ill family member.
- Make it much easier for someone to be held in a hospital for 72 hours and be
  evaluated for mental illness.
- Consider psychosis both a medical and public safety emergency.
- End the stigma against mental illness.

If we're going to live in a country where there is a gun for every man, woman, and child, I'd say we need to take better care of the mentally ill.
We, as a society, better stop looking at mental illness as a stigmatized territory solely for outcasts.  Let's get familiar with it.

The woman who wrote this article lives has a son with a severe mental illness.  She is not identified in this article to protect the privacy of her son.

Tomorrow I will address some of the things this woman addressed.  I will say that violence has not been an issue with my son.  The times we have seen him angry and aggressive are normally due to us pushing him to get help when he is out of control.  I do not want people to get the impression he should be feared.  He has never hit any of us.  His psychosis manifests in making up a normal life for himself.  He creates a pretend life in his head.  I have often said I am glad he does not face reality very often.  If he did, it would be so depressing.  He had so much potential for his life.  Now he leads a very lonely existance.  He needs a pretend world.
Thanks for passing the article along Street Sweeper.  Very sad subject.  I believe the key to getting more help for the mentally ill is for people to become educated and aware of what they and their families face.