I didn’t know. I couldn’t understand.
My adult child’s mind. Filled with wild ideas, not possible.
Not sleeping. Impulsive. Brought to the hospital.
Why? What could I hope for?
For me, sadness. Trying to help.
The world, full of danger.
Scared for my child. What could I do?
I needed help. How?
I found others. Similar experiences.
They grieved the loss of someone no longer the same.
They hurt. They cared.
I learned about expectations. How do I let go?
I found helpers. Some wonderful. Others not so great.
What can I do when my adult child does not take her medications?
I reel with her manic episodes and hospitalizations.
How do I get through?
Learning about advocacy.
Teaching and supporting others.
Speaking about mental illness. I find my voice.
I write the stories. I do what I can. I am getting through.
Help makes a difference.
Psychiatrists, nurses, social workers, case managers.
Housing subsidy, social security disability, recovery programs.
Living independently with support. Right now, stability for my child. I am grateful.
I see hope. I see recovery.
My adult child, resilient. Choosing her life experiences.
The future, uncertain.
For me, uncertainty, but also acceptance.
Marjorie A. Schaffer