Aunt Jane Couldn't Make It All Better

You know, I haven't posted here in a really really long time. I am not a verbal person, or a word person. I am a picture person: colors, patterns, shapes, etc. So it is difficult to express myself in words. And then I have this depression and stress sometimes. That's when I become REALLY silent. I just have no words. And nothing that I think anyone would want to hear. And no one would hear or read it anyway.

Well, I finally had my BIG breakdown. You see, I have a most beautiful son who is an adult now. At age 17 he came down with schizophrenia. It breaks my heart. He is 35 now. For a long time he did very well on medication, had a job, his own apartment, social life. But then... He went off of his medication, and just left. He ended up in San Diego and is homeless. And not on medication. Sometimes he emails me from a library or somewhere. His words are like some sort of poetry- word salad that I attempt to decipher. He is in complete denial and has no insight into his illness and does not want any help.

I made an attempt to get him back here, but it didnt work. I just Broke into little pieces. I became suicidal. But a tiny part of me in the very back of my mind said- tell someone. So I did. I told my sister and my boyfriend. And I said, "Gosh, it would be good to be sedated."  So I went into the psych hospital and got help. I am now on Seroquel, a medication that really helps me. I still feel the pain and the sting of my son's situation, but it is a little bit further away, rather than right up in my face to the point I cant breathe. I have a little breathing room. I am not suicidal anymore.