LGBTQueer-ies
“Your Child Is Suicidal”
As a parent, there are some words you never expect to hear.
It was as if the therapist’s words halted at my ears and fell to the floor at my feet disappearing into the dark shag rug. They were impossible for me to comprehend. But when I looked at the therapist’s sympathetic stare and allowed the long quiet pause in his office to wash over me, understanding began its way into my mind. Reality finally sunk in. My breath stopped and I could hear my heart thumping in my ears.
Was it really that bad? How did I miss this?
Then it felt as if my heart stopped. Nausea churned inside me as the tears poured down my face. Our small family of three went home that day with emergency phone numbers and a mental health plan that included removing all weapons from our home.
Gathering up pocket knives and our one handgun to store away because my son was suicidal, hit me hard. I felt like a failure as a mom. Like I should have realized how crestfallen my child was.
I wanted to learn all I could about depression in teens.
Google was my constant companion for weeks after that initial appointment. My spouse and I would share interesting and helpful articles we’d find. It was nice to have another person to talk to about such a heartbreaking discovery.
Communication was important for the whole family. I learned early on that not only was I not to blame for my son’s depression, but I also couldn’t fix it either. It didn’t work like that. But I could be a good listener when he wanted to talk.
Family fun included getting out of the house more. Spending time outside with friends. Keeping my son’s alone-time to a minimum for a while.
I’ve learned that depression is very different from feeling sad. While feeling sad sucks, depression is debilitating. There were days my son refused to get out of bed. Refused to eat. This is where those emergency phone numbers came into play.
Choose wisely.
My son wouldn’t be here without the help and expertise of his therapists and doctors. I am so grateful to have found them when we needed them so desperately. The most important lesson I’ve learned throughout discovering the magnitude of my son’s depression is that it’s more than okay to ask for help when you need it. The second most important lesson I’ve learned is that not all therapists and doctors are created equal.
I let my son lead the way to choosing the right therapist for him. Therapy is very intimate and it only works if the patient feels comfortable and trusts the doctor. Without trust, the patient won’t be honest. Without honesty, there’s no real progress in dealing with depression.
It took four months with the right therapist before my son stopped hiding out alone in his room. He actually smiled and laughed again. Don’t take this the wrong way though. Eight years later he still sees a therapist, although not as often.
Stay open-minded about medication.
Unfortunately, depression is an ongoing struggle for my son. But he’s coping. And more importantly, he hasn’t been suicidal for a long time. In addition to therapy, he takes prescribed medication daily. I was very hesitant to start him on anything in the beginning. But I realized that I was being a hypocrite. I wouldn’t have hesitated if it was medication for any other disease. The stigma that it was a mental and/or emotional problem seemed to cloud my judgment regarding medication possibilities. I learned that his medication in conjunction with his therapy has saved his life. I will be forever thankful for the doctor who insisted we try it.
It’s so important for those suffering from this disease to have loved ones who will support them and not criticize them for not “snapping out of it.” If you have a friend or family member battling depression, I encourage you to help them in any way you can. Sufferers of depression need understanding.
Here are 10 Questions Every Parent Should Ask Their Transgender Teen.
Zada Kent is creator of LGBTQueer-ies & proud parent to her transgender son.
She loves to engage on Twitter and Instagram as well as here on Medium.
