#CHANGEStartsWithME

I’m spitting MAD, I tell you! Fighting, spitting, PIZZED. And that’s not my normal. I’m the positively cheerful one engaging others and doing cartwheels in the corner. I’m that eager beaver, anxious to help everybody get along and look past negativity… But today! I.AM.FUMING…

I raised twin sons as best I could. Sent them both off to school at eighteen, three hours drive away. Far enough so they could sprout their wings. Near enough so momma bird could look in, run down and supply a nudge or two, if needed. After three months, I finally exhaled and began to embrace life with an empty nest…

One of my sons, however, soon began experiencing what we thought were “bullying” issues. As I was told, one of his three roommates began teasing him and calling attention to areas my son was insecure of. I advised him as best I could and encouraged him to speak with his father (with whom my son doesn’t have a strong relationship) and also my partner (who is a wonderful support system for my children). These incidents apparently continued.

Months later, my son (who is the youngest twin) returned home, stressing that he absolutely could NOT continue. After a lengthy discussion, he told us he hated the school for many stated reasons and did not feel it was the environment he needed to be successful. He announced he was returning home and would develop alternative plans… I was dumbfounded.

Upon his return, I immediately sensed something was wrong! In determining my son was depressed, I took him to meet with a psychologist who encouraged us to return each week. After months of sessions, a series of tests and, admittedly, more concerning behavioral changes, my son was diagnosed as Paranoid Schizophrenic.

Consequently, we as a family completely submitted to mental health “experts,” who communicated the symptoms and prognosis with a life sentence! (Some even gave a death sentence!) And this is OKAY with you? …We were engaged in utter FEAR in regards to what my precious son’s existence would now be! All this, in a country with NO regard for completely healthy Black men, much less mine (who was now committed to less-than-normal somehow, with the stroke of a pen)!!! What?!?!

My son was encouraged (BY HIS MOTHER, no doubt) to submit himself to mental “health” facilities supposedly to initiate “treatment” and get better. I was advised that this was the only way to sanity. I say, facilities <plural> simply because at the time of this writing, WE have been subjected to five different mental health hospitals (over the course of six short months), who housed my son for a period of one week each, shot him up with drugs (which I was wholly against in raising my family), “stabilized” his symptoms and returned him home. To me. A mom who was utterly, pathetically lacking in understanding and dealing with what we were facing…

He soon learned <to my breaking heart> that his mother, like a walking oxymoron, touted living a highly moral, spiritual existence apart from drugs, yet now pushed drugs down his throat and anything and everything “those people” said would work magic on the symptoms he was experiencing… My son soon said no to the drugs. After reading up on the side effects, his supposed life sentence, he says emphatically, NO! He felt like a zombie, experienced symptoms while in his zombie state and did not appreciate our treatment that he was “ill.” He soon put me in the column with “those people,” who didn’t give a damn about him and would do anything to keep that drug money flowing…

Makes a lot of sense for someone deemed as “mad,” doesn’t it? Actually, my son makes quite a bit of sense when I fully listen to him. And I am learning to listen. With my heart, my head, my spirit… My eyes are open.

At the point of this writing, I have changed. I no longer believe in “those people.” I believe in my son. I believe he’s NOT “ill” but living with a condition. A condition NOT neurological in nature but borne out of grossly lacking interpersonal skills. And he CAN recover. It’s my fight that he WILL. You see, I have researched non-medicinal healing for paranoia schizophrenia and have found MANY success stories (dating back 50 years). I have also discovered psychiatrists who are fully recovered from the condition but who say the “experts” have NO interest in fixing what is utterly wrong with the mental “health” industry. You see, their hands are in the back pockets of all the pharmaceutical companies, their suppliers.

It’s a disgustingly sick relationship, isn’t it? Yeah. I’m PIZZED. My son, like many millions all across this land and hundreds of millions around the world need the therapies and solutions that have been PROVEN to heal so many already. They don’t deserve to be pawns in a sick game for profits.

This before-now-timid-cheerleader-from-the-sidelines has.had.ENOUGH! And I know there are others who have also! Change begins with ME. I must #DOSomething! And I am moving others to act. To DO what must be done. To FREE our loved ones from the lifetime sentence which imprisons them. A sentence they do NOT deserve! A sentence that is borne out of cowardice, greed, ignorance, fear and apathy! We’ve been lied to! Our loved ones need us! Let’s #Rise UP and #MakeAChange. WE CAN DO THIS! #BELIEVE