I look forward to your Substack every week. You are such a strong person and loving mother. Having a child who is suffering has to be the worst kind of pain for a parent. I look forward to the next installment.
Writing helps me immensely,I can get my thoughts in order and make some sense out of differences with my kids.
Thank you so much for your honest writing and I cannot imagine how difficult Noah's reality was from yours. Thank god he is doing better,its a blessing that he had the family and love surrounding him to help.
Same. Thank you so much for sharing the realness of these moments. I do think we’re coming to a transition where the responsibility is on him to try some of the tools he chose to add to his safety plan. He’s vulnerable and needs more modeling to internalize intrinsic motivation for self protective skills. It’s slow going but meaningful. He walked to the library to join a gaming event for the second time ever which is huge after what happened.
It’s so taboo. In America, too, where people are pathologized and demonized for seeking support, I’m grateful we live in a progressive city with caring providers.
I am a survivor as well, one who thought I’d done the work in therapy to break the cycle, and still a predator targeted him outside the home. Everything I did to protect him feels meaningless except that it created a foundation for him to come forward much earlier as a minor, which only 15 percent of young men do. The average age of disclosure is 50, so while he can get intervention, it’s cold comfort.
Irreversible and painful. We need more help that is just not available. Glad he can have weekly therapy with a person he trusts.
Have you read Stephen Mills’ memoir, “Chosen: Memoir of a Stolen Boyhood”? It is a very powerful memoir about how he dealt with childhood sexual abuse. And he is an amazingly kind person so if you read the book and reach out i suspect he would respond. He has a lot of empathy. And the book may give you and your son some solace and hope. ❤️
Thank you so much for sharing. We have been through this, seeking a higher level of care and outpatient follow up, it’s still so precarious, but like you, I’m devoted and hoping to support his healing. It’s a maze.
I am here for any support i can provide. I wish no one had to experience the pain and fear we did. What makes it slightly tolerable is knowing I might be able to offer comfort to others because of what I learned.
I learned about the carousel of mental health care with my fiancé who died prematurely. As many with mental illness, he was more accident prone and needed substantial support which he did have. Unfortunately, he was in unfamiliar surroundings. I have had to advocate for my son every step of the way in hopes of preventing such a tragic outcome.
They use to describe it as “treat ‘em and street ‘em”. I can’t let that happen if there is any way to secure care for him.
My own son suffered a crisis disclosing at age 16 sexual abuse that occurred between 12-14 by a 60 year old teacher. Like many survivors, he self harms with suicidal ideation. He stayed inpatient for 12 days in an adolescent PBMU and has completed two intensive outpatient DBT programs. He has therapy 1x per week while we are on a waiting list for wrap around WiSE services. I can attend therapy about 1x per month.
It’s not enough. We are barely out of crisis. I’m a single parent with no surviving family, disabled with spinal fusion and totally exhausted. We are just coming out of constant hypervigilance as he’s acquired new skills to regulate. They say until he goes thru trauma therapy that he will keep experiencing visceral flashbacks which begins self harming cycles. The suicidal ideation increases and we de-escalate in the ED. That’s not an option for me at the moment not knowing what adult programs are available. He just turned 19 and is autistic. His behavior and neurodivergence has never been an issue at home, but it must inform care because his population has special concerns. We don’t want to add to the trauma. Everything is locked away. I can hardly have an individual thought process. His behavior is impulsive and high risk—when he articulates what happened to him it’s harrowing for us both, but as he let’s it out, the build up of pressure releases. We cry.
All the ways in which he has regressed, separation anxiety, fear of telling due to lies he heard, his capacity to function and world view being rewired are devastating. It’s constant from the moment he opens his eyes. I stay up worrying sometimes or just being alone finally.
We need more access to medically necessary life saving care. I’m afraid it won’t be enough and that I’ll lose this battle to get him the help he needs and the support I need as a parent to grieve and as his caregiver to allocate energy and resource respite care.
I wish we had access to a higher level of care. With family and parent sessions, parent peer support and groups for both of us. That’s what it will take and we would happily show up to all of it.
It doesn’t exist. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only thing mitigating his existence. I can’t lose him. There will be no reason for me to stay.
Oh Lisa. When I think of our experience I picture Noah hanging off a cliff by his fingertips and a big group of family, friends, and healthcare professionals on top, clinging together and pulling him up. We were fortunate to have that kind of support- and to live here, in Canada, where health care is a right and not a privilege- though mental health care is not always delivered in a sensible and useful way. We still had to advocate a lot more than I would have expected . And you are right that it is exhausting and depleting and at some level it is not up to you to save your adult child, which is what I had to conclude - you do everything you can and if you do, then you have done your best, regardless of the outcome . I hope that makes sense and doesn’t sound heartless . I wasn’t at that point with noah quite yet - i got there after that day in the ED. And what I concluded eventually was that Noah wanted to stop hurting. He thought death was the only way to do that. What we needed to help him understand was that life sometimes hurts - nothing is perfect, and “this too shall pass,” and that if you have a support system to help you through those times, you need to draw on it. Which he does. It was not easy getting to this point . Not a picnic. But doable. I hope it will be for you and your son.
Treat em and street em is a phrase i had not heard but have clearly seen…
pardon the typos. I am pecking this out on my phone, half awake and slightly bliind…
Showing us both your interior landscape and the closed physical setting of the car interior in dialogue worked well for me as a reader to understand the mis-communication happening.
Thank you, Jill. I hadn’t thought about it that way — the interior and the interior. (I will now give myself credit for my subconscious at work. And you credit for pointing it out.)
Debby, this must have been such a difficult conversation and ride home with your son, Noah. I heard all sorts of red flags in the conversation you described and yet I can relate: how do you respond to hearing your child talk that way? The scene you described must have been heartbreaking to go through.
Oh, it was. And then, two days later, something utterly ridiculous happened that made me think things couldn’t possibly get worse. Which they did — but also, as a metaphor, and in retrospect, the utterly ridiculous thing that happened suggested that maybe God has a sense of humor and I should learn to roll with the punches. (I’ll write about that soon.)
I still wonder, should i have turned back? But the truth is, i don’t know that we would have had the positive outcome we ultimately did if i had turned back.
Writing helps me make sense of my life too. We walk together.
I look forward to your Substack every week. You are such a strong person and loving mother. Having a child who is suffering has to be the worst kind of pain for a parent. I look forward to the next installment.
Thanks, Denise. I need to keep hearing this! (I wish I didn’t, but I do. So I appreciate it.)
Writing helps me immensely,I can get my thoughts in order and make some sense out of differences with my kids.
Thank you so much for your honest writing and I cannot imagine how difficult Noah's reality was from yours. Thank god he is doing better,its a blessing that he had the family and love surrounding him to help.
Same. Thank you so much for sharing the realness of these moments. I do think we’re coming to a transition where the responsibility is on him to try some of the tools he chose to add to his safety plan. He’s vulnerable and needs more modeling to internalize intrinsic motivation for self protective skills. It’s slow going but meaningful. He walked to the library to join a gaming event for the second time ever which is huge after what happened.
It’s so taboo. In America, too, where people are pathologized and demonized for seeking support, I’m grateful we live in a progressive city with caring providers.
I am a survivor as well, one who thought I’d done the work in therapy to break the cycle, and still a predator targeted him outside the home. Everything I did to protect him feels meaningless except that it created a foundation for him to come forward much earlier as a minor, which only 15 percent of young men do. The average age of disclosure is 50, so while he can get intervention, it’s cold comfort.
Irreversible and painful. We need more help that is just not available. Glad he can have weekly therapy with a person he trusts.
Have you read Stephen Mills’ memoir, “Chosen: Memoir of a Stolen Boyhood”? It is a very powerful memoir about how he dealt with childhood sexual abuse. And he is an amazingly kind person so if you read the book and reach out i suspect he would respond. He has a lot of empathy. And the book may give you and your son some solace and hope. ❤️
Thank you Debby, I will definitely check it out. It’s so difficult. I genuinely appreciate your words and ideas.
Thanks, Diane.
I really appreciate that. When I look back at what our lives were like seven years ago at this time, compared to now — it feels like a miracle.
Thank you so much for sharing. We have been through this, seeking a higher level of care and outpatient follow up, it’s still so precarious, but like you, I’m devoted and hoping to support his healing. It’s a maze.
I am here for any support i can provide. I wish no one had to experience the pain and fear we did. What makes it slightly tolerable is knowing I might be able to offer comfort to others because of what I learned.
I learned about the carousel of mental health care with my fiancé who died prematurely. As many with mental illness, he was more accident prone and needed substantial support which he did have. Unfortunately, he was in unfamiliar surroundings. I have had to advocate for my son every step of the way in hopes of preventing such a tragic outcome.
They use to describe it as “treat ‘em and street ‘em”. I can’t let that happen if there is any way to secure care for him.
My own son suffered a crisis disclosing at age 16 sexual abuse that occurred between 12-14 by a 60 year old teacher. Like many survivors, he self harms with suicidal ideation. He stayed inpatient for 12 days in an adolescent PBMU and has completed two intensive outpatient DBT programs. He has therapy 1x per week while we are on a waiting list for wrap around WiSE services. I can attend therapy about 1x per month.
It’s not enough. We are barely out of crisis. I’m a single parent with no surviving family, disabled with spinal fusion and totally exhausted. We are just coming out of constant hypervigilance as he’s acquired new skills to regulate. They say until he goes thru trauma therapy that he will keep experiencing visceral flashbacks which begins self harming cycles. The suicidal ideation increases and we de-escalate in the ED. That’s not an option for me at the moment not knowing what adult programs are available. He just turned 19 and is autistic. His behavior and neurodivergence has never been an issue at home, but it must inform care because his population has special concerns. We don’t want to add to the trauma. Everything is locked away. I can hardly have an individual thought process. His behavior is impulsive and high risk—when he articulates what happened to him it’s harrowing for us both, but as he let’s it out, the build up of pressure releases. We cry.
All the ways in which he has regressed, separation anxiety, fear of telling due to lies he heard, his capacity to function and world view being rewired are devastating. It’s constant from the moment he opens his eyes. I stay up worrying sometimes or just being alone finally.
We need more access to medically necessary life saving care. I’m afraid it won’t be enough and that I’ll lose this battle to get him the help he needs and the support I need as a parent to grieve and as his caregiver to allocate energy and resource respite care.
I wish we had access to a higher level of care. With family and parent sessions, parent peer support and groups for both of us. That’s what it will take and we would happily show up to all of it.
It doesn’t exist. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only thing mitigating his existence. I can’t lose him. There will be no reason for me to stay.
Oh Lisa. When I think of our experience I picture Noah hanging off a cliff by his fingertips and a big group of family, friends, and healthcare professionals on top, clinging together and pulling him up. We were fortunate to have that kind of support- and to live here, in Canada, where health care is a right and not a privilege- though mental health care is not always delivered in a sensible and useful way. We still had to advocate a lot more than I would have expected . And you are right that it is exhausting and depleting and at some level it is not up to you to save your adult child, which is what I had to conclude - you do everything you can and if you do, then you have done your best, regardless of the outcome . I hope that makes sense and doesn’t sound heartless . I wasn’t at that point with noah quite yet - i got there after that day in the ED. And what I concluded eventually was that Noah wanted to stop hurting. He thought death was the only way to do that. What we needed to help him understand was that life sometimes hurts - nothing is perfect, and “this too shall pass,” and that if you have a support system to help you through those times, you need to draw on it. Which he does. It was not easy getting to this point . Not a picnic. But doable. I hope it will be for you and your son.
Treat em and street em is a phrase i had not heard but have clearly seen…
pardon the typos. I am pecking this out on my phone, half awake and slightly bliind…
Showing us both your interior landscape and the closed physical setting of the car interior in dialogue worked well for me as a reader to understand the mis-communication happening.
Thank you, Jill. I hadn’t thought about it that way — the interior and the interior. (I will now give myself credit for my subconscious at work. And you credit for pointing it out.)
Debby, this must have been such a difficult conversation and ride home with your son, Noah. I heard all sorts of red flags in the conversation you described and yet I can relate: how do you respond to hearing your child talk that way? The scene you described must have been heartbreaking to go through.
Oh, it was. And then, two days later, something utterly ridiculous happened that made me think things couldn’t possibly get worse. Which they did — but also, as a metaphor, and in retrospect, the utterly ridiculous thing that happened suggested that maybe God has a sense of humor and I should learn to roll with the punches. (I’ll write about that soon.)
I still wonder, should i have turned back? But the truth is, i don’t know that we would have had the positive outcome we ultimately did if i had turned back.