I’m Just Here. Trying.
⚠️ Trigger Warning:
This blog discusses suicide, mental health struggles, and parental guilt. It may be triggering for some readers. Please take care of yourself before continuing.
Today I woke up to a text from my son.
The first one came in at midnight: “I need you.”
The second at 1 a.m.: “Read my journal when you wake up.”
My heart sank. Based on our history with his mental health struggles, I knew this wasn’t just a casual late-night message. I jumped out of bed, ran downstairs, and made sure he was still alive. He was. Relief hit me for a moment—but it didn’t last.
I opened his journal, like he asked. Thoughts of suicide are taking over his mind again.
I won’t share the details—those are his thoughts, his story—but as his mother, I’m left holding the weight of them. My role is to keep him safe, to support him, to help him find his way back from the darkness.
So I did what any desperate parent does: I went online to find help.
Counselors. Psychologists. Clinics. Hotlines.
But every search left me more frustrated. No new patients. Telehealth only. Out of network.
Then came the emotional rollercoaster:
Stress and anxiety because my son needs help and I can’t find it.
Anger at a system that makes help so hard to access.
Shutdown mode, because as someone living with C-PTSD from my own childhood trauma, it’s the only way I know to quiet the tidal wave of thoughts and emotions.
And in that shutdown, the questions creep in:
How can I help my son when I feel like I can’t even be the parent he needs?
Am I failing him?
Am I the reason he feels this way?
Maybe I don’t hug him enough.
Maybe he spends too much time alone while I’m at work.
Maybe I should have figured out my own life before trying to guide him through his.
And then I understand, in a heartbreaking way, why he feels the way he does. Life is overwhelming. He wants to know his purpose, and I can’t even define my own.
Then comes the guilt. The guilt for having my own feelings when he’s the one who needs help.
So here I am—blogging. Writing it out because I don’t know what else to do. Because sometimes, the only way to get through the tangle of fear, guilt, anger, and love is to pour it onto a page and hope that someone out there understands.
If you’ve been here, you know. It’s a lonely, terrifying place to be as a parent. I wish I had some words of encouragement to sign off with. But today, I’m just here. Trying.
If someone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please reach out for help:
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (U.S. & Canada): Dial 988
Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741 (free, 24/7 support)
If you are outside the U.S., find international hotlines here: https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines
You are not alone. Reaching out for help can save a life.
Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional. I am sharing my personal experience as a parent navigating this difficult journey. If you or someone you love is struggling with mental health, please seek support from qualified professionals.
