The News Herald (Willoughby, OH)

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May was Mental Health Awareness Month. It’s over now, but it shouldn’t be. I’m not a medical profession­al or anything even close, but I am convinced that every person on the planet (no matter age, economic status, profession, race, or gender) is vulnerable to events that can alter their state of mind. If you’re not sure about this, just research the increase in the amount of people seeking psychologi­cal help due to the pandemic, then try getting an appointmen­t with a therapist or counselor that doesn’t require weeks or months on a wait list.

There are so many things damaging our mental health that we don’t even realize. Add underlying issues not yet detected and undiagnose­d…it’s a bad situation made worse, and the need for support more urgent. Many teens are struggling with mental health issues right now and many of us don’t even know it. How could we? Not too many teens feel comfortabl­e talking to adults about ‘their stuff’ and mental health issues can also be so complex that it’s difficult for adults to know and understand, let alone try to articulate it to someone as a teenager.

For years my three kids have felt comfortabl­e talking to me. I’m a very understand­ing and accepting mom. We have a very open relationsh­ip; they know there isn’t anything we can’t discuss (anything). But that wasn’t enough when it came to my son’s mental health. My teenager struggled the first three years of high school. He hated school, bad attitude at home, lots of issues. I’d done everything with him that I did when parenting his two older sisters…nothing worked! I read books about parenting boys, changed my language and approach, tried everything. Nothing worked. By junior year, I prayed he’d enlist in the military, move to his father’s, or just get out. But, at the same time I loved him and wanted to help him. I was at wits end; even willing to let him quit school. He was miserable and not himself. It broke my heart and exhausted me at the same time.

Then, by a stroke of luck, I came across a program with an app to help treat teen depression. We were so desperate, I asked him if he’d be interested in trying it. He agreed.

That app was the start of help for us.

Since last spring, he been on a brave journey to find out what makes him tick (or crash) and has had the courage to talk to others about it (most recently he did an interview with CBS Cleveland). The program he participat­ed in, SparkRx, has now made it into doctor’s and counselor’s offices throughout the nation.

Over the last year I have watched him become more of himself again, enroll in a welding program at the local community college, he just finished his senior year (with passing grades he can be proud of) and will graduate high school! He has been able to achieve the things that I knew he could, and he has returned to the boy (and young man) I knew he was destined to be. I cannot discuss this topic without a waterfall of tears.

Seeing him get back on an even keel didn’t just make me happy, it inspired me. Five months ago, at 48, I sought profession­al help for major focus issues that were practicall­y debilitati­ng. It seemed like out of nowhere, I just couldn’t get out of my own way. Since my ADHD diagnosis in December, I have felt so much better. It’s been a wonderful relief. And if it weren’t for my son, I would not be on the road to success. With our diagnosis we can now give ourselves permission to be who we are, with what we have,

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