TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY (CALIFORNIA) - COMING SOON by Dede Ranahan

Linda Rippee Privatte - REWIND AND ERASE (California)

I slowly walked away, feeling sick to my stomach. If only I could rewind and erase all the horrible memories, delusions, pain, and suffering my blind, mentally ill, homeless brother’s experienced for the last three decades. Yes, Mark, I would feel better.

Every letter/email I’ve sent out has also been sent to the County Board of Supervisors. I’ve sent out over 1200 emails and my twin CJ has sent as many. Each time, we copy agencies and politicians. We’ve saturated them. We’ve sent thousands of private messages all over the state and made thousands of posts and comments in over 100 social media groups all over California. CJ authored the petition for AB1971* and we collected 56,000 signatures that went to the full assembly and senate. We’ve made 30 speeches speaking at public meetings. We’ve testified twice at the Capitol in support of AB1971. I’ve gone to the Capitol and told my brother's story to support several other bills. There have been 12 news articles and TV interviews. Mark’s story has been published in three national blogs and used at medical conferences. We’ve friended, and are in contact with, several well-known national mental health advocates — Ron Powers, Teresa Pasquini, Leslie Carpenter, Dede Ranahan, and DJ Jaffe to name a few.

The Board of Supervisors is ground zero. They are aware of all that we’ve done. They stay silent and do not converse with our family. The next project we are working on is a documentary. I have many, many videos of my visits on the streets with Mark. We will make the videos available to politicians and to the public. They are undeniable. When they are shown, Solano County should hang its head in shame.

Note: Solano County has declared Mark to be competent and ineligible for assistance.

Read more of Linda’s story in the upcoming book, TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY - Explosive First-Person Indictments of the US Mental Health System -- Mothers Across the Nation Tell It Like It Is. It will be available on Amazon.

Watch my Nautilus Book Awards Author Spotlight video: https://vimeo.com/422993030

TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY (TEXAS) - COMING SOON by Dede Ranahan

Channin Henry Williams - I SEE CHANGE COMING (TEXAS)

Showing signs of being very sick, our daughter Raven started a fire in our cabin. We were able to put the fire out quickly. When police picked her up, it was clear she needed long-term medical care. They didn’t even hint about pressing charges. Only the doctor treating her asked if we were doing to press charges, suggesting that might be the best way to get her help. Her psychologist didn’t agree with the doctor.

That evening, my husband and I went to the hospital to talk to the doctors and to check on Raven. We were shaken by the events of that day, but we weren’t angry with her. She’d been medication compliant. When I entered the hospital room, Raven was entertaining herself with peanut butter and a spoon. After we hugged, I saw that she was behaving like a five-year-old. She showed me her neat trick. She could put the spoon and peanut butter on her nose and giggled because it wouldn’t fall off. She seemed oblivious to the events that had just taken place. The next morning, I called CPS (Child Protective Services) and explained why I was unable to bring my daughter home. My heart broke.

In spite of everything, I see hope. I see more people who care. I see more of us telling our stories so we can make a difference. I see social support groups available online to give advice and support. I see a movement of people who are tired of fighting a system that fails us and has no accountability, and tired of finding our loved ones incarcerated or homeless. I see people educating our politicians and trying to make improvements. I see change coming.

Read more of Channin’s story in the upcoming book, TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY - Explosive First-Person Indictments of the US Mental Health System -- Mothers Across the Nation Tell It Like It Is. It will be available on Amazon.

Watch my Nautilus Book Awards Author Spotlight video:https://vimeo.com/422993030

Channin and Raven

TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY (MAINE) - COMING SOON by Dede Ranahan

Laurie Turley  - “THEY SHOULD HAVE LET YOU HELP ME.” (Maine)

I received a phone call from Carol’s son that she’d been taken by ambulance to the hospital with a serious and invasive lung infection. She was in medical care for several weeks during which time, back on psychiatric medication, her ability to reason began to return, even while her physical health continued to decline.

In one of our last phone conversations, Carol shared that she felt life returning within her, that she felt like she was awakening from a bad dream. She said to me, "I don't know how I got so bad. I was doing so well. How did things get so bad?”

I told her we all knew she was going downhill and we tried to help her, but she refused help. There was nothing family members could do. Her next words were among the last she ever spoke to me. "They should have let you help me. I wasn't in my right mind."

“They should have let you help me. I wasn't in my right mind.” Those words will haunt me until the end of my days.

Read more of Laurie’s story in the upcoming book, TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY - Explosive First-Person Indictments of the US Mental Health System -- Mothers Across the Nation Tell It Like It Is. It will be available on Amazon.

Carol

TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY (OREGON) - COMING SOON by Dede Ranahan

Sharon Underwood - WHY IS THIS OKAY? (Oregon)

I’m losing everything. My fiancee is wonderful and my landlords are trying to be helpful. I filed for a new restraining order and plan to move. I feel like my son’s left me no choice. He’s in jail and will be for a while. I don’t know if I’m relieved to not be terrorized every day or profoundly struck with heartbreak and guilt. I’m now $5000 in debt and have, for all intents and purposes, lost my son.

I'm sick of this terrible disease. I’m sick of the terrible system that governs it. The cops all know he’s sick. The doctors all know he’s sick. The judges all know he’s sick. I can’t believe my sick son can be left to his own devices. I can’t believe that the only treatment he’ll get will be in jail or prison.

Why is this okay? Tim talks like he’s 10-years old. How is this okay?

Read more of Sharon’s story in the upcoming book, TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY - Explosive First-Person Indictments of the US Mental Health System -- Mothers Across the Nation Tell It Like It Is. It will be available on Amazon.

Sharon and Tim

TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY (COLORADO) - COMING SOON by Dede Ranahan

Darlene Been Watkins - PLEASE DON’T KILL MY SON — (Colorado)

My wonderful, heavenly angel son Shane Watkins (39), was shot by a Lawrence County deputy because he thought all people with mental illness were dangerous. My son called 911 saying I threatened to kill him and his dog. I told 911, “We have no guns in the house and please tell the cop not to kill my son.”

When the cop got out of his truck, he had his gun in his hand. I was standing in the doorway. My son was standing by my car. I begged the cop, “Please don’t kill my son.” Not even five seconds later, he shot my son three times in the chest. One bullet went into the hood of my car. Then he pointed the gun at me and threatened to kill me, too.

Read more of Darlene’s story in the upcoming book, TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY - Explosive First-Person Indictments of the US Mental Health System -- Mothers Across the Nation Tell It Like It Is. It will be available on Amazon.

TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY (OHIO) - COMING SOON by Dede Ranahan

Nikki Landis —NIKKI AND KEVIN — Ohio

My heart is breaking. Our kids' hearts are breaking. Please pray for us, and if you have a family member with a brain disease/mental illness, rethink how you talk about it. I have never been ashamed of my boys with autism. Talk about it without stigma and the stigma disappears.

I know I have so much to be thankful for. My family's been blessed beyond measure in so many ways. I go day-to-day relatively happy. And then it will hit again and I just want to cry. I don't always get to because there's a little face that needs to be kissed or a little behind that needs to be wiped and I don't want them to see me so sad. But sometimes I just need to cry.

I am such a fighter and that's not always a good thing. I've accomplished so many things that were supposedly impossible, and because that's my nature it makes this harder. I seem to always be looking for ways to figure everything out so we can have the life I envisioned, even when it's not something I should be fighting for anymore.

Read more of Nikki’s story in the upcoming book, TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY - Explosive First-Person Indictments of the US Mental Health System -- Mothers Across the Nation Tell It Like It Is. It will be available on Amazon.

Nikki and Kevin

TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY (MICHIGAN)-- COMING SOON by Dede Ranahan

Sarah C. — IT FEELS LIKE THE STATE OF MICHIGAN WANTS ME DEAD 

We’ve exhausted all mental health services, and I mean all. I even drove my son out of state to be hospitalized. The residential treatment facility is the last thing that can help, but I can't afford it. Child Protective Services, therapists, other family members, and medical providers all agree he needs this, but insurance won't pay for it unless he is a drug user.

So here we are. All involved agree my son cannot be in my home. It's too dangerous for me and his younger siblings. He’s strong and over six-feet tall. I love him, but I'm deathly afraid of him. So are my two daughters, whom he attempted to sexually molest as well as physically assault. 

The state of Michigan would help me pay for his treatment, but here’s the catch: I'm being charged with child abuse and child neglect. Authorities say it’s the only way to keep everyone safe and to get him help. They’ve put me on a child abuse registry. I won’t be able to go back to working with children (I previously worked in an elementary school). I can't go on field trips with my other children because my name is on that list.

Read more of Sarah's story in the upcoming book, TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY — Explosive First-Person Indictments of the US Mental Health System — Mothers Across the Nation Tell It Like It Is. Will be available on Amazon.

Sarah and her son

TOMORROW WAS YESTERDAY -- A NEW BOOK DEDICATED TO SMI MOTHERS EVERYWHERE by Dede Ranahan

I’m taking a blog break for the next few weeks — or however long it takes to finish the manuscript for my next book, Tomorrow Was Yesterday — Explosive First-Person Indictments of the US Mental Health System — Mothers Across the Nation Tell It Like It Is.

This book is a compilation of over 60 stories collected on this blog from 2016 to the present. Individually these stories are powerful. Together they’re explosive. Hence the title.

For too long, the US has been a culture that’s kept serious mental illness (SMI) in the closet, in the back bedroom, in the category of “things we don’t talk about.”

But no more. The brave mothers sharing their SMI stories have learned that shame and silence don’t work. Indeed, they’re not even called for. SMI is a neurological brain disease. A physical disease like any other physical disease. There’s no reason not to talk about it.

Still, putting their stories out there in a book for all to read is not a decision lightly made. There are many aspects to consider. One mother, who previously shared her story on this blog, declined to be included in the book. “Things have taken a turn for the worse. I can’t think about sharing my story right now. Too many things going on. I hope you understand.”

I do understand. I’ve been there. Unless you’ve “walked in our shoes,” — that worn-out phrase — there’s no way to be aware of the complexities families face trying to support their SMI loved ones. And that makes the bravery of the mothers speaking out in Tomorrow Was Yesterday all the more mind-blowing. That makes their stories all the more educational. One early reader writes:  “Omigosh, Dede. This is heart wrenching reading some of these stories. I’m trying to pace myself. This book will have such an impact. Seeing all these stories together has got to make a difference.”

Staying home with the COVID-19 pandemic has given me time to seriously attack this writing project. I think of the effort as my gift to the SMI cause. It’s meaningful to me personally, too. The sixth anniversary of my son’s death is almost here. Pat died on July 23, 2014, in a hospital psych ward. I’m still grieving. I’ll always be grieving. There’s no way to stop grieving the loss of a child/adult child. 

One mother said to me, “If my child were to die, I don’t think I could continue to advocate the way you continue to advocate. I wouldn’t have the strength.” 

For me, it’s not about strength. It’s about, in my grieving, needing to do something. Needing to try, over and over again, to make sense of the tragedy cruelly visited upon my son. 

When the Tomorrow Was Yesterday manuscript is ready to send out the door to the publisher, I’ll be back on the blog. In the meantime, please stay safe — wherever you are. COVID-19 is no joke. Take whatever precautions you can to protect yourselves and your families. Losing someone you love is life-altering. I don’t wish it on anyone.

Confidential to Pat: Akamai777, My Son. I love you forever, Mom

EVERYONE NEEDS HOPE by Martha

"Everyone Needs Hope" was actually written by me in 2015 when I had the opportunity to go on a five-day vacation. As you know, vacations are rare to go on when you are a full-time caregiver to a loved one with a serious mental illness (or neurological brain disorder). For the first time in 15 years, I had asked two close family members to help with my son while I was away.
I was anxious about being away and, yet, I tried to enjoy myself. By the third day of my trip, one of the family members, who was helping my son, sent me an email with the subject line, "Good Read.” When I opened the email, there was a link entitled “Enabling-Enabler-Resources.” I was completely crushed. What a memorable trip for all the wrong reasons.
When I got home, I called my brother-in-law, who is a retired career air force veteran and lives a long distance from us. He’d been stationed in Afghanistan, at one point, during the Afghanistan war. I knew he’d suffered from mental illness, temporarily, and I wanted to share my pain with him. He empathized with me and said, "I have only a glimmer of understanding of what individuals with chronic serious mental illness experience every day. I suggest you try being placed in a dark well for three straight days, 500 feet down, with a hood over your head, to get a sense of what I experienced during my depressive episode. That might give you some understanding of what SMI folks live with on a day-to-day basis.  We all, as human beings, need hope. Mental illness causes us to lose hope. We all need a north star, that unconditional love, that thing to hang onto. Martha, don’t ever forget, you are that north star for Derrick.”
My brother-in-law’s words and complete understanding prompted me to write this piece and I’ve carried it quietly with me ever since. I know my family dynamics and that this kind of understanding will take time.

EVERYONE NEEDS HOPE  

We all, as human beings, need hope. Mental illness causes us to lose hope. We all need a north star, a compass, a twinkle of belief, unconditional love, a thing to hang onto, a reason to take our medicine. 

I have been in the trenches with my son, Derrick, for 15 years now. You have not been by my side, not seen what I have seen, not had to make the decisions I’ve had to make. Not just for a day or two or three but every day. Therefore, you have no right to lecture or criticize me on my decisions or actions because all it does is hurt me. It doesn’t help me and I can’t accept that. I need to stay focused on the positive. I need to replenish my energy.  I know all of the love and effort I’ve put forth. That is the truth of the situation and I know that Derrick knows it, too.  I know I’ve made progress over the years. It may have only been an inch at a time, but it’s progress. I can’t begin to imagine where my son would be today without me. Therefore, I know we’ve made progress. 

Have I done everything perfectly throughout the years? Absolutely not. I’ve done the best I knew how with the information and resources I’ve had available to me at a given time. 

Do I have regrets? Sure I do. Mental illness is complicated. I’m doing the very best I can with what Derrick’s illness allows. His decisions are not always the ones I would like for him to make, but I have to try and accept them. 

One of Derrick’s doctors once told me, in reference to his mental illness, that I needed to conserve my energy because this is not a short run, but the start of a marathon. 

That’s a daunting thought — the start of a marathon of caregiving. 

If knowing what I know today, along with the uncertainty of what will come tomorrow, would I still have made the commitment to begin this race? Yes. Derrick didn’t choose his mental illness — he was only 16 years of age with an amazing future ahead of him — just as no one chooses cancer, diabetes, or Alzheimer’s. The race we start when we begin caring for those we love is challenging and hard regardless of the disease, and we never know what we will learn along the way or when we will cross the finish line. I know I wouldn’t be the person I am today if it weren’t for the many moments I’ve shared with my son, and I’m forever grateful to him for that. 

Early on in his illness, Derrick would occasionally look at me in a wise and patient kind of way and say, “Maybe someday you’ll understand,” and say no more. Those words have stuck with me and, as the years have passed, I’ve realized so much, received more to appreciate, and have never forgotten that everyone needs hope.

A BEAUTIFUL SIGN OF BETTER DAYS AHEAD FOR OUR SON by Leslie Carpenter

This sky was exactly what I needed to see tonight.

Today was one of those days that families living “in the life” can relate to.

Some of you know we have had our son on a waiting list for a facility in Quincy, Illinois. Well, they have an opening, and today we took our son to go visit the facility himself to see if he would like to make this transition.

Once again, this might not seem like a big deal to many, but for someone with a serious brain disorder, with altered memories of his experiences, and to be fair, some traumatic experiences as well, this is actually fraught with all sorts of fears and stress.

Upon arrival, things didn’t go well. Actually, they went about as badly as they could have. And yet, the folks at this facility handled the situation with more kindness, patience, and wisdom than we have witnessed in a lot of years while navigating the mental illness treatment system.

Our son demanded we drive him back to his group home, but we had to stop for lunch and somehow he changed his mind and asked to go back to talk with the kind folks, and apologize.

And so, we went back. And he talked with them, and they managed to get him to open up and share his questions, concerns, and fears. He shared some of his traumas of the past — some actual, some not — but all very real to him. He demonstrated more insights into his illness than we have seen from him, ever.

By the end of the talk, he just wanted us to leave him there, and go collect his belongings. Well, things don’t work quite that quickly and easily. But, papers were signed and the process was started.

And there, within just one very long day, is how it is living on the roller coaster “in the life.” We know things could fall apart tomorrow, but for tonight, we think we may have finally found where he needs to be, where there are skilled, compassionate people who “get it” and want to help him.

Even though I still don’t quite believe in a God, I do believe there are angels walking amongst us. Toni Hatton Park, I am ever so glad to have met you and to have had the opportunity to witness you working your magic today.

And this sky tonight seems ever so soothing, like a beautiful sign of better days ahead for our son.