Progress report on treatment for depression — Okay. I can’t say I wasn’t warned. My family doctor clearly instructed me, “Do not take these at night. If you do, you will not sleep.” I believed him. And since I value my sleep very highly, I took my first dose of Effexor early Monday morning, before I went…

And not very surprised — A couple weeks ago, it got bad enough for me to notice. As I’ve gone through normal days with typical stresses, I’ve been getting these weird mood swings — cheerful one minute, sad the next. At first, I saw no need to worry. The blues never lasted long. It’s been…

Thank you, and I’m sorry — In this article, I wish to express gratitude to the security and law enforcement, EMTs and hospital personnel who took care of my son in his final hours. When I first decided I wanted to do something for these people, and being the needle-and-thread type of gal that I am…

An open letter to my grown children — Before you open the enclosed letter, please note that it describes something called alienation. This is a common abuse tactic, often employed by disgruntled parents, one against the other. Here’s a good article about it. But in my case, my mother used it as well — joining forces with Ex…

Grief triggers that bring unexpected joy to mourning — When I first heard that my son had died, I googled his name to look for any information I could find. Since I’ve severed contact with my family (they probably think I’m dead anyway), I knew I couldn’t ask them for it. So, I located the GoFundMe page my daughter-in-law…

I wish he’d been there when my son needed him — When I left Ex Number Two, I moved into a safe house — a nice group home where women of all ages are protected from the reasons that put them there. Most residents were young mothers with little children. At the time I lived there, I was the only grandmother…

But my son still died, so what good did they do? — When I was a young teenager listening to the Osmonds, the Partridge Family, and Three Dog Night on my transistor radio, I gleefully plunged into a world of pure imagination. I clutched my hairbrush in my fist like a microphone, flipping my hair back and forth as I danced in…

A mother’s analysis — Below, you’ll see the last article my son wrote, published on LinkedIn the day before he died. And here, I openly admit to copy/pasting something from a dead man’s blog. I hope that can’t be called plagiarism. I have attributed the work to him. I’ve just removed his name and…

Coming to terms with death by mental illness — Before we proceed, I need to warn you. My son died by suicide, and this article is a mother’s initial attempts to deal with it. This piece has been hard to write, and I really don’t want to face the subject directly. Nor am I too keen on telling the…