Journey with Mental Illness

In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month

Depression

Mental illness is not something you can plan for. It doesn't provide warnings or wait for the "right" moment to show up; it simply becomes part of your life, sometimes gradually and other times suddenly. I have learned this not only through observation but also from experiencing it daily with my adult son.

Twelve and a half years before Kevin's death, he made an extreme cry for help when he attempted suicide and was diagnosed with clinical depression. That was when I found out he had been struggling in silence with depression since he was 11 years old. I learned firsthand that it is not a piece of cake to live with.

Watching someone you love face mental health challenges can be complicated and confusing. However, there are also bright moments and good days. Sometimes, Kevin is full of laughter, shares his thoughts, and feels like himself again. Most days, he enjoys playing or practicing his trumpet, sitar, piano, or other instruments he loves. He even composes his own music.

I love it when he spends time with friends, enjoying good fun and laughter. He often spends time with his girlfriend, sharing excitement about what’s ahead. And those special occasions where he makes sushi or cooks a nice meal are so memorable! There are days that he exercises, jogs, and attends yoga classes. I treasure all those good days and can't help but wish I could have them again (magical thinking).

Struggling with mental illness

Kevin on trumpet and keyboard

I had the privilege of attending one of his open-air concerts in August 2019. As he played the trumpet and keyboard simultaneously, the crowd applauded and showered him with compliments. However, when he returned home after the concert, I noticed he seemed drained and lost in thought. When I mentioned how much people enjoyed his music, he appeared visibly upset and told me he didn't see what I was discussing. It made me realize that, despite his confidence and musical skills, Kevin was carrying an inner darkness hidden from the world. I have witnessed so many instances like this. 

There were many days when I would call him several times a day from work, and if he didn't answer, I would take my lunch break to go home and check on him. If I couldn't make it home, I would ask my husband to drive for 35 or 40 minutes each way to check on Kevin. The stress and anxiety were overwhelming. Living on the edge was emotionally, physically, and relationally exhausting. 

There are days when he can't get out of bed, and it feels like the weight of depression or pain is too much to handle. I feel helpless even though I’m trying everything I can think of. I make some coffee and text him at 11:00 a.m. to remind him that he needs to eat. I come up with different excuses to get him out of his room. I even had his dad call to chat a bit. I wish we could hit the rewind button, but I know that’s not possible. So, I’ll keep writing and unpacking all this pain and suffering.

What I have Learned

The situation has become even more challenging due to my instinct as a parent. I want to fix things and protect my child, but I’ve realized that my good intentions can complicate matters. The concept of "co-dependency" resonated with me—I often sacrifice my well-being, trying to control situations that I can't. It’s an everyday struggle, and it's vital to recognize how it affects us and our loved ones.

Mental illness affects not only the individual who is going through it but also everyone around them. I understand the frustration, exhaustion, fear, and guilt that can overwhelm us. Sometimes I lie awake at night, questioning whether I said the right thing, if I did enough, or if there were choices I could have made differently in the past. I didn't openly discuss my son's battle with depression, which weighed heavily on me. I kept my son's struggles a secret.

Secrecy often arises from fear—fear of stigma, judgment, or worsening situations. However, living in secrecy can prevent us from embracing the support of others. While silence may seem protective, it can feel more like imprisonment. I felt shame because I worried others would call my son "mad." Each time I heard someone talk about suicide before Kevin's death, I cringed at the hurtful names they used. We need to do better as human beings. This behavior is unacceptable and can cause lasting harm. Choosing to share our truths can lead us to freedom and connection.

To all who are reading this, I want to share the profound sorrow that comes with losing a child—a pain that no parent should have to endure. Kevin faced significant struggles with his mental health, spending a week in a psychiatric ward in 2008 after a suicide attempt. Despite his brave fight, he lost his battle on February 28, 2020, succumbing to the overwhelming feelings of hopelessness. My heart goes out to anyone who has experienced such a heartbreaking loss.

You are not alone

I found comfort in reading the stories of other survivors of suicide loss. I used to believe that I wasn’t praying enough or that God was angry with me or punishing me for some wrong I had done. However, after discovering Pastor Rick Warren's story—about how he lost his son Matthew to a lifelong battle with mental illness despite numerous treatments and the support of prayer warriors worldwide—my perspective changed. If a minister, who had dinner with his son just the night before, could tragically lose his child, I am convinced that mental illness is a silent killer.

The Bible discusses the struggles of Elijah, David, and Job as they faced despair, lack of direction, and suicidal thoughts. Job's suffering was both physical and emotional, affecting him spiritually as well. He expressed his anguish with the question, "Why did I not perish at birth, and die as I came from the womb?" (Job 3:11). Job's story illustrates the complexity of suffering. It emphasizes the importance of maintaining faith even amid uncertainty.

My spirituality has deepened during times of despair. Psalm 40:1-3 says, "I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand." This assures me that I am not alone—God is with me.

This journey is challenging and demands resilience. Engaging in this difficult work is essential because I believe in the extraordinary strength of the human spirit. As I confront my pain, I want to share my story to help others. Community support is vital, but unfortunately, lives are often cut short due to mental illness.

Living with mental illness, whether it's your own or a loved one's, isn't easy. It's not a clean, tidy story with a clear beginning and end. But it's real, and it matters; talking about it is one of the most important things we can do.

Many parents, partners, siblings, and friends face challenges as they strive to support a loved one through an arduous journey, often without fully understanding it. Each day, we may wear smiles that conceal our deep sorrow. It's a delicate balance—learning to embrace both grief and joy as they coexist.

Do you know of someone struggling with mental health? It's okay to ask for help. Help is available! Please know that you are not alone in this.