Mental Health... Let us all be "aware"

My son. My gorgeous sweet smoochy face cherub baby boy. This is what I remember all so well over 21 years ago. .My son. Now taller than me, with more leg hair than my husband, deeper voice than I remember ever-changing. Still my gorgeous sweet-faced boyAt what time do we, as moms… just let go. Let them make their own mistakes, physically, mentally, and emotionally.It’s been a trying year full of LIFE LESSONS, minimizing the pain by calling them this.Mental Health… Last month was “the “ month for awareness but realistically like everything we are “monthly” aware of, this is a DAILY battle.A month ago I sat down and started to write my blog (or sometimes can be called my soapbox) regarding Mental Health Awareness Month but if I’m being truthful, as I started… too many words, unconstructed sentences full of overwhelming emotions flooded the page, not making much or any sense to anyone at all except myself.So, I will try to simplify the dialog in my head about this topic that is so easily brushed under the rug. Some may even call it shameful.. which is wrongMy gorgeous sweet son attempted suicide. Not just once but a couple timesA struggle in himself I knew nothing about until the battle was already crashing down on me.My world… this is my son, especially during this time in my life when I was alone in a two-person marriage.“We” got through it… those years that seem so long ago. “We” means me and my gorgeous sweet son.If you ask me to elaborate on how, when, where etc… trust me, I could go on and on, taking you down a very dark windy road that finally ended with the sun on my face but it’s too much to write for now.Fast forward to last fall… I thought I was safe… home-free and life was great until it wasn't…a random phone call on a Tuesday night, and my gorgeous sweet son was in crisis once again.I dare breathe a sigh of relief after making it through yet another “ worst night of my life”, once again my gorgeous sweet son is happier… healthier than ever before.So many questions from strangers or sideway glances from other distant parents asking how or why my son and I are so close.My simplified answer: Many days we only had each other… many days I feared I would be left alone, without himHis good days.. the days of bright smiles and long lingering laughter now outnumber his bad days, the days of drawn curtains, dark rooms, and the smell of despair, these days he tells me he is trying to settle or quiet his mind… his monkey brain I call itThese monkey brain days still scare me. I want to cuddle him , swaddle him, hold him close as if he was still my cherub-faced baby… it’s what I knew how to do to soothe his outward cries, his long strong cries would ceaseBut for obvious reasons… being a grown man now I can not swaddle him but I CAN keep him close in my prayers and cuddle him in my thoughts and manifesting.Uncharted waters as I move forward in my new journey at being his mom. Yes, he WILL always be my baby but he IS an adult and I must trust in the tools I taught him and faith that God will watch over him when I can not.I know he will and is an amazing human, he will grow on to be an incredible partner and loving dad if he chooses to.This is my blog… A simple writing to open up the conversation about mental health. As you can assume, it will always be and should be an ongoing talk, as hard and difficult it might be, it NEEDS to be addressed. Let us get uncomfortable. Raise our hands in the classroom of life, let us all speak our minds and lift our voices about each of our personal journeys, navigating through the rough uncharted waters of mental health. As we speak up with courage we will be united, never alone again…