The Mother Behind the Diagnosis
Chapter One: The Day My Son Came Home There are moments in life that divide your story into before and after . For me, it happened the day my son showed up at my front door after his divorce. I remember opening the door expecting to see my son. Instead, I met someone I barely recognized. He had my son's face. He had my son's voice. But the son I knew was no longer standing in front of me. His eyes seemed distant, as though he were looking through me instead of at me. His words were disconnected. His thoughts raced from one subject to another. He spoke to people who were not there. He responded to voices I could not hear. He laughed at things no one else had said. Then, moments later, he would accuse people of watching him, following him, plotting against him. The fear on his face was real. The danger he believed surrounded him was real to him. Nothing I said could convince him otherwise. I kept telling myself he was exhausted. Maybe the divorce had broken him. M...