Dear Congress: If Mental illness Causes Mass Shootings, Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

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It’s easy to blame mental illness, but we fail to mention that treatment works and recovery is possible for many.

For mothers of teenagers like me, news about a school shooting never gets any easier. We experience the same dread, the same despair, the same fear that someone will attack our children’s school. In between mass shootings, we drill our children on what they would do. We check on their social media accounts. We try to pretend that there’s some sense of safety in a world that always seems full of random, unpredictable violence.

I’m the mom CNN used to call whenever there was a school shooting. And today, one day after 17 children who are the same age as mine did not come home from school because of another mass shooting, I’m angry. Predictably, politicians have tweeted meaningless “thoughts and prayers.” Also predictably, some Republicans have tried to shift the blame for the latest massacre to the isolated actions of a “mentally disturbed individual.”  

After the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting five years ago, I shared my story of parenting a child with violent behavioral symptoms of a then-undiagnosed mental illness in a viral essay entitled “I Am Adam Lanza’s Mother.” In that essay, I wrote, “It’s easy to talk about guns. But it’s time to talk about mental illness.” 

Now, I’m concerned that we are having the same blame and shame conversation without any meaningful action, as this viral Facebook post shows.  

Today, with the correct diagnosis (bipolar disorder) and treatment that works, my son Eric lives in recovery. In 2016, he even gave a TEDx Boise talk about his experiences.  Eric is a normal high school senior who, like many of the Parkland, Florida students, is planning for college next fall.

Today, I feel that blaming mental illness for an epidemic of violence in the wake of so many mass shootings has become a meaningless trope. If politicians and the National Rifle Association really believe that mental illness causes mass shootings, it’s time to put their money where their mouth is. Here are a few suggestions:

1.       Provide funding for research into treatments and cures, perhaps by donating the millions of dollars that the National Rifle Association gives to their campaigns.  

2.       Continue to support parity for mental and physical health, currently required by the ACA but already under threat in my own state.  

3.       Stop blaming children and their parents for the appalling lack of community mental health services and supports.  

4.       Understand that when treated, people who have mental illness are no more likely to be violent than anyone else. Treatment works and recovery is possible.  

5.       Adopt reasonable and bipartisan gun control measures that focus on suicide prevention, since more than 60% of deaths by gun violence in the U.S. are completed suicides, a tragedy that disproportionately affects the brave men and women who serve in our military.  

Most people can agree that universal background checks and allowing the government to track gun violence statistics (currently prohibited by federal law) are good first steps to better understanding and controlling our nation's clear gun problem.

To be transparent, I live in Idaho, a gun-loving state. I grew up in a family that hunted, and my brothers taught shooting sports at Boy Scout camp. I have enjoyed shooting sports in the past. While I do not personally have guns in my home because of my son’s illness, I know many responsible gun owners, some of whom live in recovery. 

Yes, it’s true: people who have mental illness can be responsible gun owners, which is why mental health advocacy organizations including the National Alliance on Mental Illness believe that “Federal and state gun reporting laws should be based on these identified traits, not mental illness.”   

People who are in treatment for mental illness and are compliant with treatment should not be treated any differently than anyone else. To focus on mental illness as the sole cause of mass shootings is a clear example of the pervasive discrimination and fear in our society. In fact, while it’s true that at least one-third of mass shooters seem to have had an untreated mental illness, a more common predictor of this kind of violence is a history of animal abuse or domestic violence, as is the case with the Florida shooter. Both of these deplorable behaviors are actual crimes, and both of them should require immediate intervention including loss of gun rights.

But mental illness is not—and should not be—a crime.

It’s time to act.  Build the community mental health treatment centers. Fund research into cures. And most importantly, stop blaming by association the millions of good people who live in recovery for the violent actions of a few.

We Are All Star Stuff

Cosmic Webs, Neurological Disorders, and Human Compassion

Image credit: GUI.Brush Blog, http://www.codres.de/2013/01/cosmic-web-vs-brain-neural-network

On a recent Friday evening, I took my 12-year-old daughter to a free Boise State University public astronomy lecture presented by Dr. Christy Tremonti,  assistant professor at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, who leads a sky-scanning spectrometry project to map the chemical composition of galaxies. If Walt Whitman had heard this learned astronomer, I promise he would not have been bored and wandered outside to stargaze. With visible excitement, Tremonti shared the realization, expressed by Carl Sagan, that “We are star stuff.”

“Think about it,” Tremonti gushed. “Right now, the blood flowing in your veins—in every single person’s veins—contains iron that was born in the center of a star.” 

Tremonti then touched briefly on the mysterious dark energy and dark matter that make up 95% of the universe.  She showed the audience a new (to me) model of galaxy creation, with galaxies forming as nodes at the intersections of a cosmic web. To me, this image looked remarkably like the human brain’s neural network. 

I’m not the first person to make this observation. In a 2017 Nautilus article, astronomer Franco Vazza and neuroscientist Alberto Feletti observed:

It is truly a remarkable fact that the cosmic web is more similar to the human brain than it is to the interior of a galaxy; or that the neuronal network is more similar to the cosmic web than it is to the interior of a neuronal body. Despite extraordinary differences in substrate, physical mechanisms, and size, the human neuronal network and the cosmic web of galaxies, when considered with the tools of information theory, are strikingly similar.   

As I thought about the astonishing similarities between our brains and the universe, my mind turned to the news of Morgan Geyser’s 40-year sentence to a mental institution. Morgan and her friend Anissa Weier were just 12 years old, the same age as my daughter, when they carried out a plan to stab their friend in an attempt to appease Slenderman, a shadowy mythological Internet figure who epitomizes the unseen dark matter of the World Wide Web. 

Under a cruel and misguided Wisconsin law, Morgan and Anissa were both charged as adults and both pled guilty, Morgan to attempted first-degree murder, and Anissa to being party to a crime. While incarcerated, Morgan was diagnosed with juvenile-onset schizophrenia, a rare and serious neurological disorder that can cause a child’s sense of reality to bend and break. 

I met Morgan’s mother Angie shortly after the attack. Angie was emotionally bruised and battered from the media circus that assaulted her family. As often happens in cases where children are charged with sensational crimes, the Internet determined that Angie was undoubtedly to blame. She was a terrible mother. 

I can personally relate—when my essay “I Am Adam Lanza’s Mother” went viral five years ago, I immediately became the Internet’s Exhibit A for bad parenting, all because I talked about my child’s then-undiagnosed mental illness. 

In fact, Angie Geyser is a remarkably competent and caring mother by any standard of measurement. She is involved in both her children’s lives, has a clear moral compass and models it for her children, and works hard to provide them with a stable and supported life. After Morgan’s diagnosis, Angie fought tirelessly to get her daughter medical care, since untreated psychosis can cause brain damage.   

Morgan Geyser, treated, with her mother Angie in 2017
(photo used by permission of Angie Geyser)

In April 2016, I interviewed Angie by telephone, planning to write an article about her experiences. While I ultimately concluded that the subject matter—a mother losing her child—hit too close to home for me personally to write about it,  one line from that interview with Angie has stuck with me: 

“She’s herself again. She is treated and now she is our Morgan again, the sweet loving child we knew. She is not a danger to herself or others.”

This statement was so significant because anecdotally, my experience was exactly the same. My own child was sick with an undiagnosed mental illness and often had violent behavioral outbursts. In 2013, after my blog post caught the attention of a specialist in pediatric bipolar disorder, Eric was correctly diagnosed, started treatment including medication, therapy, and lifestyle changes, and it worked. For five years now, my son has lived in recovery. And in fact, that outcome is common for people who live with mental illness. When treated, they are no more likely to be violent than anyone else.  

But sadly, most people in our society live in fear of those who have schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. While these mental illnesses affect just 4% of the population, they cause a whirlwind of “dark matter” in the media. Charging children as adults in itself is horribly wrong, but what happened to Morgan because of her mental illness is just as bad. Our fear of people like Morgan Geyser far outweighs our fear of the unknown and unseen universe.

This pervasive cultural fear leads to harsh consequences for those who commit crimes while living with mental illness. In fact, research has shown that “Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity” pleas result in longer incarceration times than people would have incurred if they had just pled guilty. New York Times writer Mac McClelland wrote in 2017:

Though forensic detentions get little attention, they can range from ethically questionable to flagrantly unconstitutional and illegal. In 1983, a national study found that Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity. patients often lost their freedom for twice as long as those actually convicted of the same offense.

Another type of plea now available in 20 states, “Guilty but Mentally Ill,” also tends to result in longer institutional stays and is opposed by the American Psychiatric Association and the National Alliance on Mental Illness.   

What if Morgan Geyser had been diagnosed with a brain tumor instead of schizophrenia? Would people have been so quick to blame her and her mother? 

In fact, researchers are increasingly understanding schizophrenia as a biological disorder of neural networks, the brain’s “cosmic web.” One 2016 study noted that “Cognitive impairments are one of the core symptoms associated with schizophrenia, and manifest even before the onset of the disorder. Altered neural networks involving PFC contribute to cognitive impairments in schizophrenia.”  

Today, Morgan is in treatment, but it took 19 months from her initial diagnosis to get the medical care she needed—and treatment is not always guaranteed for people who have mental illness in prison. Her mother told me that Morgan “wants to stay on medication. She feels better. She has insight into her illness now which she didn’t have previously.”

If Morgan had been diagnosed with a brain tumor that caused her actions, I like to think that most people would probably be celebrating the medical miracle that healed her. Instead, as the comments on ABC News’s interview with Morgan’s mother demonstrate, blaming and shaming continues to define the conversation about children’s mental illness.  

I want to stress here that we don’t have to feel any less sorry for Morgan’s unfortunate victim—and I am personally truly sorry—because Morgan acted under the influence of now treated psychosis. It doesn’t make the victim’s trauma any less serious or the act itself any less awful. 

What makes the whole situation more awful, however, is refusing to acknowledge that treatment has worked for Morgan, that she is in recovery, and that she is no longer a danger to herself and others. Instead, because of her brain illness, Morgan may spend the majority of her life locked away from society. Substitute “brain tumor” for “schizophrenia.” Is such a life sentence fair when the “tumor” has been treated and the behavior is no longer dangerous?

I thought about all of this—crime, punishment, parenting, and mental illnesss—as my daughter and I left the astronomy lecture. Sadly, the stars were hidden behind winter clouds, but as we drove home, we saw the glorious super moon peak through, spreading silvery tendrils across the sky, like the gasses that streamed toward galaxies or the neurochemical axons that stretch toward soma, ferrying our best guesses about reality.

My lovely, lively 12-year-old daughter chanted softly in the moonlight, “I am made of star stuff, you are made of star stuff, we are made of star stuff.” 

We only see 5% of the universe. And we still know so little about the human brain. That is why, above all else, we must be kind to each other.  If only we could replace fear with wonder, judgment with compassion. If only we could understand that all of us—parents and children, sick and well—share a fundamental cosmic reality: iron atoms forged in stars flow in our veins. 

Three Years after Newtown: Hope

Parents for Care dinner in Baltimore, with
the SuperMoms (and Dads) who advocate for their
children who have serious mental illness

Three years ago, when a mother, 20 first graders, 6 educators, and a young man with untreated mental illness died by gun violence in Newtown, Connecticut, I was on the phone with a social worker in Boise, Idaho. He wanted me to press charges for assault against my then 13-year-old son, who had threatened to kill himself a few days earlier. My back and ribs still ached, and my arms were covered with bruises and bite marks sustained when I tried to keep my son from bolting into oncoming traffic.

When I heard about Newtown Friday morning at work, I put my head on my desk and sobbed. My younger two children were still in elementary school, and I couldn’t even imagine how horrible it would be to lose them like that.

Except I could.

With Representative Tim Murphy

My third son was in an acute care psychiatric hospital--again. After years of trying to find help for him, we still didn't have answers.

But I knew two things for certain that morning. First, my son was not a bad kid. He was not a monster, or a psycho. He was a kind, sweet, sensitive boy who suffered immense pain and deserved help.

Second, I was not a bad mother.

That terrible morning in 2012, without knowing any details other than the age of the shooter and the fact that his mother--and 26 innocent people--were dead, I felt like I knew everything.

So I wrote, "I Am Adam Lanza's Mofher." And I thought I was the only mother in the entire world who could sympathize with Nancy Lanza.

It turns out I was far from alone. Mental illness touches us all in some fashion. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, one in five children will suffer a debilitating mental disorder before age 18.  Almost one in five adults will experience mental illness in any given year (excluding substance abuse disorders). l  And serious mental illness—schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and major depression—affects 10 million adults, or 4% of our population.  These men and women are too often shunted into a nightmarish “revolving door” of prison and homelessness because we do not have the community or medical supports in place to provide them with life-saving treatment. 

A reading from my award-
winning book at StoryFort

Three years after Newtown, I was able to travel around the country and see what's working in mental health--and why we still have so far to go. If you want to learn more about ways you can help children and families like minhe, click on the links below to learn more about these organizations, and think about donating if you are able to do so.

In January, I made my first trip to Washington D.C. as a guest of the Treatment Advocacy Center to celebrate an advocacy award given to Representative Tim Murphy for his tireless efforts to reform the mental healthcare system at the national level. 

In February, I spoke at the Jewish Family and Children’s Services of Arizona annual luncheon in Phoenix, where I was able to learn about crisis wraparound services provided to children and families. 

In March, I won a 2015 “Books for a Better Life” award for “The Price of Silence” and I participated with my son in a StoryFort reading hosted by the Cabin in Boise. 

2015 APA
annual meeting in Toronto.

In April, I spoke at the North Dakota Juvenile Justice conference and also visited with several parents whose children were struggling with mental illness. I also spoke at the Showers of Hope luncheon to support the Lindner Center of Hope in Cincinnati, Ohio. The Lindner family has a legacy of philanthropy in their community; they are now contributing their resources to help fund a truly revolutionary center of excellence for mental healthcare treatment and research. I also was the keynote speaker for the Idaho Children’s Home Society, an organization that provides counseling to low income children and families in our Boise community. 

With Dr. Jeffrey Lieberman, author
of "Shrinks" (must-read!)

May was a busy month. I spoke at the Siouxland Mental Health Center annual conference and learned more about partnerships with mental health courts that reduced recidivism rates for people suffering from mental illness by more than 75%. That’s a huge savings, both in taxpayer dollars and in lives. I also co-presented a workshop at the American Psychiatric Association annual meeting in Toronto. The workshop was the brainchild of Mental Health America’s thoughtful Patrick Hendry. Every advocate should read his paper on meaningful dialogue. Finally, I gave the keynote speech for Thresholds in Chicago, where I was brought to tears by the life-changing work their staff has done as they intervene with at-risk youth and give them a chance at a bright future.

September took me to Miami, Florida, to present at the 8th annual Chair Summit, where I met psychiatric care providers from all over the Americas, including Dr. Jeffrey Lieberman and Dr. Paul Summergrad, and learned about cutting-edge new research and treatments—and enjoyed an authentic Cubano and the best ceviche I’ve ever had. When I returned, I attended my first NAMI-Boise chapter board meeting. The National Alliance on Mental Illness is one of the nation’s most prominent advocacy groups and provides free education classes for the community.

The Oklahoma City Memorial

In October, I spoke at my first non “mental health” conference. Leadership Oklahoma decided to focus their annual meeting on mental illness and its impact on the Oklahoma community. Sadly, less than a week later, a young woman with mental illness crashed into a crowd of people, killing four people. Cathy Costello, whose untreated son stabbed her husband Mark, Oklahoma’s well-respected labor commissioner, was in the audience.   

In November, I was able to meet several of my mom advocate heroes in person at the Johns Hopkins annual Schizophrenia summit. The presenters, top researchers in their field, took time to meet with us as parents and answer our questions at an event organized by the inimitable Laura Pogliano, founder of Parents for Care.  Laura’s son Zac, who suffered with schizophrenia, died tragically at the age of 23 earlier this year. 

And now, on December 14, I’m in San Diego, preparing to attend the International Bipolar Foundation board meeting. Our board members include Randi Silverman, whose poignant film, No Letting Go, tells the hopeful story of a teenager struggling with mental illness and his family, and Kevin Hines, who survived a suicide attempt from the Golden Gate Bridge and is now sharing his powerful story to help others. 

Messages in Dutch Bros coffee lids.

Last year, on the second anniversary of Newtown, I wrote on the Huffington Post that we were “Two Years to Nowhere.”  Today, I have more hope. But real change depends on each of us. As a society, we have an obligation to provide treatment to those who suffer. As individuals, we have an ethical duty to treat one another with respect and compassion.

We still have a long way to go, but it feels like we’re finally moving in the right direction. 

The Power of One

How a Single Juror Made All the Difference to Families of Children who Have Serious Mental Illness

Like many Americans, I held my breath on Friday, August 7 at 5:00 p.m. as I waited for the verdict to be read in the James Holmes case. No one questions that Holmes shot up a movie theater in 2012, killing 9 innocent victims and injuring 70 others. And few question that Holmes met Colorado’s legal definition of sanity when he committed this violent act. Similarly, few question that Holmes suffered from schizophrenia, an incurable mental illness with sometimes violent behavioral symptoms.

The only question in that moment for parents of children who have serious mental illness, parents like me, was this: would Holmes be sentenced to death for behavioral symptoms of a brain disease?

One juror found that outcome to be unacceptable. One juror saved James Holmes’s life.

And while the Internet swirled with hateful comments, mothers across America breathed a collective sigh of relief. Three of these mother wrote letters to the lone juror and shared them with me.

Leisl Stouffer of Bold Faith Ministries has watched her son’s dramatic improvement with residential treatment, something few parents can access. She wrote this to the lone juror who had the moral courage to save James Holmes’s life:

I will never forget the morning I woke up to “Breaking News.”  A movie theater. A gunman.  

Carnage. Death. Slowly the details emerged as we all sat in shock over the latest mass shooting. And then the media showed us his face. James Holmes. The cold blooded killer with the bright orange hair.   

But I saw more than his hair.  I saw the look on his face. I saw his eyes, and I was rocked to the core. 

That empty, faraway look.  Glazed over. No emotion. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. This man’s eyes revealed a look into his mind.  An abyss of darkness.  A chasm of illness. 

Mental Illness. 

I had seen that same look in my own home.

Laura Pogliano’s story was profiled in a USA Today series on caring for children with mental illness  in November 2014. Then, she called herself a “fortunate mother” because despite the enormous financial costs of obtaining care, she had been able to get treatment for her son Zac. Just a few months later, Zac died at the age of 23 of heart failure. Laura wrote this to the lone juror:

When the final sentencing verdict was read, I cried. Instead of the death penalty, Holmes was given life without the possibility of parole.  A juror spokesman related afterward that a single juror refused the death penalty as an option.  One out of seventeen. This lone juror’s refusal to put Holmes to death is probably the only reason Holmes was spared. 

My son was seriously mentally ill with paranoid schizophrenia for seven years before he died at age 23 of heart failure. If I could say anything to the Lone Juror, here’s what I would tell him or her: 

Thank you for sparing James Holmes’s life. By refusing to agree to the death penalty, you reminded us all of some important things we used to know as a nation but seem to have completely forgotten in the last 40 years.We have forgotten that treatment matters more than any single thing in a desperately ill person’s life. We evolved into a culture where it’s okay to ask for help with any disease except mental illness. With every mass shooting that we trace to untreated mental illness, with neighbors and friends all saying they saw a need for help, we grow more and more callous to the idea of treatment. 

The national chorus after a tragedy is, “why didn’t he get treatment?” By refusing to put James Holmes to death, you reminded us that he could have been saved by treatment. And you’ve shone a light on the very real deficits this country faces with our broken mental health system and very real barriers to care. Thank you for shining this light.

Diana Mandrell’s daughter also has a serious mental illness. Her family has struggled for 15 years, trying without success to find effective treatment for her daughter’s psychosis. Her daughter is currently on probation for misdemeanor assault. The family has been told their daughter must commit another crime before she can be committed to a hospital and get treatment.

I am the mother of a child who has serious mental illness, and I wanted to thank you for allowing James Holmes’ parents to keep their son alive. I know the pressure must have been very hard on you to vote for the death penalty, and I want you to know that I think you made the right decision. I know that what James Holmes did because of his disease was horrible, and my heart goes out to the victims and their families, but I also know that James and his family are also victims. They are victims of a mental health care system that is not only broken, but shattered. I know from experience that it is almost impossible to get treatment for patients with mental illness who cannot recognize their own illness. In this case, the fact that James did know and tried so desperately to get help shows that the system is even more broken than one might think. 

These parents’ stories are not uncommon, yet in the wake of Holmes’s sentence, many people attacked the brave juror.  People also continued to blame James Holmes’s parents. As parents of children who have serious mental illness, we are distressed that two-thirds of the jury apparently thought death was an appropriate sentence for a young man who had schizophrenia and acted out his awful delusions. We are profoundly grateful to the lone juror who stood up for what she believed in—that death is not an appropriate punishment for someone who has a brain disease. And we have hope that Congress will take action and pass HR2646, Representative Tim Murphy's much-needed mental healthcare reform legislation, before the next Aurora. Or Chattanooga. Or Lafayette. 

But mostly, we hope for meaningful change before another one of our precious children becomes homeless, or is jailed, or dies by suicide because of an untreated brain disease. These are the private, everyday tragedies of mental illness, tragically overshadowed by the rare and awful mass shootings that raise awareness but also contribute to fear and discrimination. We can each be the lone juror, speaking up for help and hope for the most vulnerable within our communities.

The mothers' full letters are reprinted here, with the authors’ permission:

To The Juror Who Spared James Holmes’ Life:

Thank You. Thank you for your willingness to sit on a jury in such an emotionally charged and high profile case.  Thank you for taking time away from your family and your life to serve justice. But most importantly thank you for standing firm in your convictions to spare James Holmes’ life.

In a case as horrific as this, it would be easy to say that the only true justice is death.  It appeared to be cold blooded murder. Lives were lost.  Lives were destroyed.  Dozens of families will never be the same.  The aftermath is unthinkable.  

Our human response is to call for vengeance.  

A life for a life equals justice.

But from where I’m sitting, I see things differently. 

I will never forget the morning I woke up to “Breaking News.”  A movie theater. A gunman. Carnage. Death. Slowly the details emerged as we all sat in shock over the latest mass shooting.

And then the media showed us his face. James Holmes. The cold blooded killer with the bright orange hair.  

But I saw more than his hair.  

I saw the look on his face.

I saw his eyes and I was rocked to the core.

That empty, faraway look.  Glazed over. No emotion. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. This man’s eyes revealed a look into his mind.  An abyss of darkness.  A chasm of illness.

Mental Illness.

I had seen that same look in my own home before.

I am the mother of a 17-year-old son who suffers from severe mental illness.  We have been battling this horrific and devastating disease for almost his entire life.  He is currently living in a residential treatment center where he is doing well and regaining his health, his dignity, and his life.  He used to have that faraway look in his eyes.  We had lost our son to the illness. 
But now, with treatment, he has life in his eyes.  He laughs.  He smiles.  There’s a twinkle. 

There is hope.

When I saw the image of James Holmes flash across my television screen, I did not see a cold blooded killer.  I saw a young man just like my son.  A young man who was unimaginably sick. 

I certainly do not condone his acts or the horrific crimes that were committed, but I saw James Holmes as a victim in this too.  He is a victim of a terrifying and gravely misunderstood illness.  He is a victim of our nation’s failed mental health care system.  This system refuses to provide treatment until the person is deemed an “imminent danger to self or others.”  By that point, it’s too late.  

I don’t know why you decided to spare James Holmes’ life but I am thankful you did.  The few articles and news stories I have seen report that the issue of mental illness played a significant part in your decision.  If that is indeed the case, thank you.  From the bottom of this mother’s heart, thank you.

We will never get back the lives that were lost, and for the victims and their families, life will never be the same.  But because of you, another life was saved. 

My heart goes out to everyone involved in this devastating tragedy.  If we want real justice, then let’s start by fixing our mental health care system.  That will bring real change.

Love and blessings to you, the Juror who spared James Holmes’ Life.  I am grateful. 

Leisl Stoufer

***
Dear Juror:

Like many parents of a child with mental illness, I waited with suspended breath for the verdict in the James Holmes murder trial. Holmes was found guilty of murder on all counts. He was not found “not guilty by reason of insanity,” but guilty, legally sane, meaning Holmes qualified for the death penalty in Colorado. The jury did not find enough mitigating circumstances, even though he has schizophrenia, to outweigh the evidence that he was legally sane at the time of the shooting.  This wasn’t good news for Holmes. The final phase of sentencing would include victim testimony, and then the jury would retire again for this final phase, to decide if Holmes deserved the death penalty.

When the final sentencing verdict was read, I cried. Instead of the death penalty, Holmes was given life without the possibility of parole.  A juror spokesman related afterward that a single juror refused the death penalty as an option.  One out of seventeen. This lone juror’s refusal to put Holmes to death is probably the only reason Holmes was spared.

My son was seriously mentally ill with paranoid schizophrenia for seven years before he died at age 23 of heart failure. If I could say anything to the Lone Juror, here’s what I would tell him or her:

Thank you for sparing James Holmes’s life. By refusing to agree to the death penalty, you reminded us all of some important things we used to know as a nation but seem to have completely forgotten in the last 40 years.
With over one million seriously mentally ill men and women in our prisons, we forgot that being mentally ill isn’t a crime. We forgot that mental illness comes with behaviors we don’t like, but which are driven by illness. We forgot that a person’s deeds sometimes aren’t “himself.” We forgot that being mentally ill isn’t a moral issue. Mental illness is just that: illness. We used to know it was illness, treat it as illness, “believe in it” as illness. Mental illness is real. Untreated mental illness can be debilitating, progressive, ruinous. Thank you for reminding us of this.

You reminded us that all people have value, intrinsic value; not just the value we assign them by how much they contribute to the economy. You reminded us that as a nation, we used to think of ourselves as a compassionate, human rights-oriented people. We understood that many people with mental illness could not fend for themselves, support themselves, care for themselves. We understood that while we couldn’t cure it, we could provide benevolent, long term solutions, like custodial care for those most affected. We used to know that people who were sick deserved treatment and weren’t social outcasts for asking for it. We used to know that even chronically sick people, now our homeless population, have value. Thank you for reminding us that all people have value.

We have forgotten that treatment matters more than any single thing in a desperately ill person’s life. We evolved into a culture where it’s okay to ask for help with any disease except mental illness. With every mass shooting that we trace to untreated mental illness, with neighbors and friends all saying they saw a need for help, we grow more and more callous to the idea of treatment. The national chorus after a tragedy is, “why didn’t he get treatment?” By refusing to put James Holmes to death, you reminded us that he could have been saved by treatment. And you’ve shone a light on the very real deficits this country faces with our broken mental health system and very real barriers to care. Thank you for shining this light.

What you reminded us of as a nation by refusing to send James Holmes to his death is that our justice system, often described as broken and corrupt, works once in a while. You reminded us that Justice should be tempered with Mercy, that our best legal precepts still work: Innocent until proven guilty, mitigating circumstances, punishments that fit the crimes.  We used to know that justice was separate from revenge. This is an important lesson.

Finally, we have forgotten that one person can make a difference. One person’s vote can alter nearly impossible circumstances; it can defy the odds and create change. One person’s refusal to do something that is against his moral judgment can matter more than 16 other people’s wrong opinions, or ten thousand’s. You showed us that in our best incarnation of ourselves as Americans, we used to believe this: One person can make a difference.  One vote can make a difference. Thank you for reminding us of this truth.

From the mother of a beautiful son who was stricken with paranoid schizophrenia, the same disease that James Holmes has, thank you. I know you would have done the same thing for my son.

Laura Pogliano

***
Dear Juror:

I am the mother of a child who has serious mental illness, and I wanted to thank you for allowing James Holmes’ parents to keep their son alive. I know the pressure must have been very hard on you to vote for the death penalty, and I want you to know that I think you made the right decision. I know that what James Holmes did because of his disease was horrible, and my heart goes out to the victims and their families, but I also know that James and his family are also victims. They are victims of a mental health care system that is not only broken, but shattered. I know from experience that it is almost impossible to get treatment for patients with mental illness who cannot recognize their own illness. In this case, the fact that James did know and tried so desperately to get help shows that the system is even more broken than one might think. 

I stand with his parents and the parents of all people who have mental illness in the United States. We are trying desperately to help others understand the need for treatment before these tragedies happen. I am grateful to you for allowing James Holmes’s parents to escape the horror of knowing their son would be put to death because of his illness. I honestly believe with all my heart that this tragedy could have been prevented if someone would have listened and helped him to get the treatment that he so desperately needed. I am forever grateful to you for standing your ground and voting your conscience, for whatever reason, and for allowing his parents to keep their son alive. You made the right decision. Thank you from the bottom of my broken heart.

Diana L. Mandrell

Never Give Up Hope

The Price of Silence: A Mom's Perspective
on Mental Illness, is now available in
paperback.

Six Lessons I Learned in My Ten Year Quest for Treatment

In December 2012, after a tragic school shooting in Newtown, I thought I was the only mother in America who asked myself, “What if that’s my son someday?” It turns out I was far from alone. Every single day since I shared my family’s struggle in a blog post, “I Am Adam Lanza’s Mother,” nearly three years ago, at least one parent has reached out to me with a similar story of trying to get mental health care in a broken and fragmented system. I wanted answers—not only for my son, but for millions of other children and families who are struggling. As I researched the problem for my book, The Price of Silence, I also found some answers. These are six things I learned during my family’s long and painful journey toward treatment and hope. 

1. Speak up. You are your child’s most powerful advocate. Too many parents of children who have mental illness suffer in shame and silence, or are even in denial about their child’s illness. If your child is very young and exhibits behaviors that seem abnormal—frequent night terrors, excessive tantrums, or sensitivity to noise, for example—talk to your pediatrician, and ask for a referral to a specialist. If a medical professional tells you, “Oh, he’s just a boy,” or “She’ll grow out of it,” get another opinion. If your adolescent comes to you with mental health concerns, always take them seriously. More than 4,600 young people ages 10-24 die by suicide each year.

2. Find support and resources. Your local NAMI or Federation of Families can be a great place to start. Organizations like ChildMind.org, AtWitsEnd.org, and Understood.org connect parents with information and resources as well. Finally, Facebook groups can provide comfort and a safe space to share your challenges with people who understand. To protect their members, many of these groups are secret, but you can message me, and I’ll connect you.

3. Explore multiple treatment options. While medications are an important tool in treating mental illness, they don’t work the same way for everyone, and some have serious side effects. Educate yourself about the risks and benefits, and work with your child’s doctor to identify the most effective treatments. Many children who have mental illness also benefit from other therapies. Young children might do well with Parent-Child Interaction Therapy. Applied Behavior Analysis has been successful with children who have autism. My son benefits greatly from traditional psychotherapy, which helps him to manage the anxiety he feels because of his bipolar disorder, and from occupational therapy, which helps him with his sensory processing issues. And his smart phone has also been a useful tool for him, helping him with everything from medication adherence to stress management.

4. Work with your child’s school to ensure that he or she has educational support. Children who have mental illness, especially those who live in poverty, are too often shunted into a school-to-prison pipeline that denies them a meaningful future. Your child has the right to a free and appropriate public education. The school district should work with your child to provide accommodations and supports that will enable your child to learn and develop. Note: special education can be baffling for parents. I recommend a consultation with a disability rights attorney or professional special education advocate who can walk you through the process.

5. Take care of yourself. Caregivers of children with mental illness report stress levels similar to combat soldiers. It can be hard to manage the financial stress of costly therapies and complex treatment schedules. In fact, respite care is one of the services that parents most frequently report they need. Take time for yourself every single day, even if it’s just a 15-minute walk or a few minutes to journal. It will make you a better caregiver for your child.

6. Never give up hope. When I shared my family’s story after the Newtown tragedy, I felt helpless and hopeless. But because I spoke up, my son got the help he needed. He has not made any threats of harm to himself or others for more than two years, since his last hospitalization in May 2013. He is back in a mainstream school earning good grades, and he just finished writing his third novel. Most important, my now 15-year-old son has really taken charge of his illness and is becoming a powerful advocate for himself and for others. When we accepted a joint advocacy award from Idaho Federation of Families in 2013, he said this: “I’m not a politician. I don’t give speeches. But I do know this: The stigma and discrimination against people with mental illness has got to end.”

It took us ten years to find the right treatment. And our story is not over. I do not think that anyone would say that a diagnosis of bipolar disorder is a “happy ending” for a child. But it is an answer, and it provided a path for us. As we follow that path, I have every hope that my son will live the happy, productive life that he—and every child—deserves.  

To the Parents of James Holmes

The World May Blame Your Son, but We Know the Truth, and We Support You

10 million children will grow up to be adults who have
serious mental illness like James Holmes. Like our children. 

Twenty doctors agree that James Holmes has schizophrenia, a mental disorder that has been described as “young person’s dementia.”   But the fact of his illness did not prevent Colorado jurors from finding the young man, who opened fire in an Aurora theater in 2012, guilty of 24 counts of murder in the first degree, two counts for each victim.  After the verdict, a girlfriend of one of the victims declared, “This is a huge step forward.” 

The shooting was truly awful, and the grief and even anger of the victims’ families is entirely comprehensible. But the parents of the ten million U.S. children with serious mental illness, children like James Holmes, feel differently. We see the verdict as a huge step backward, a clear message that the stigma and discrimination associated with mental illness is as strong as ever, and that the public’s fear and ignorance of mental illness have not abated since 2012.

Mass shootings are incredibly rare, representing only two percent of all gun violence in the United States. Yet the daily tragedies—incarceration, homelessness, suicide—that disproportionately affect our children who have serious mental illness do not make the headlines.

In December 2012, after another mass shooting involving a young man who likely had serious mental illness, I wrote an essay sharing my own family’s struggles to find mental healthcare for my then 13-year old son. The essay, “I Am Adam Lanza’s Mother,” became a rallying cry for mothers who had tried and failed for years to find treatment that worked for their children.  As a result of my cry for help, my son was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and got treatment that works. Today, he is in a mainstream school earning good grades, hanging out with his friends, and planning for college. With treatment, my son is no more likely to be violent than anyone else.

In the wake of the Newtown tragedy, I was also able to connect with a passionate community of mental health advocates. Eight of these mothers, all powerful advocates in their own right, wrote letters to Robert and Arlene Holmes.  Here is some of what they shared:

Last summer my 12-year-old daughter Morgan was charged with the crime that would be dubbed by the media as the “Slender Man Stabbing.” One moment she and her two best friends were eating donuts at my kitchen table. The next moment, she had been charged with a crime of unimaginable violence, and was torn suddenly and unexpectedly from my home. You have expressed feeling guilt for not knowing your son had mental illness. I know how that feels. I didn't know that my daughter was sick, either.—Angie Geyser

We managed to keep our son out of the criminal justice system until 2012. He does not think he has a mental illness even though he has spent the majority of his adult life in locked psychiatric facilities. Today he sits in jail awaiting a bed in a state hospital. We all believe in treatment before tragedy!—Teresa Pasquini

It wasn’t your beautiful son who hurt all those people.  It was the untreated brain illness that is so misunderstood.  It is my hope that we can educate people to understand that people with schizophrenia are not evil; they are ill. —Kathy Day

More children in this country die by suicide than cancer, diabetes, and every birth defect combined, but somehow, trying to keep our son alive was considered “bad parenting.” We learned that our son’s illness is in his brain, not in his upbringing. We could have so easily been where you are.—Tom and Chrisa Hickey

I hope your son is judged with compassion and given the help and care he needs. I also hope you know that you are not alone in this. We have a community of parents and caregivers of those with serious mental illnesses, and we care and support each other.
—Marcie Bitler Sohara

Our son was an adult now, and his right to have irrational thoughts flying loose in his mind were supported by maladaptive laws written in the 1960s that make one thing crystal clear: after age 18, our boy would have to present as a “danger to self or others” if he was ever going to be returned to a safe residential facility. The deinstitutionalion experiment has cost countless lives; families have lived with personal tragedies of lost loved ones for decades without anyone taking notice. Only when our sick kids explode in the community do people share an opinion. You are not alone. —Jennifer Hoff

Please don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault; it’s not your son’s fault; it’s not your husband’s fault. It’s your son’s brain disease. It’s our broken mental health system. It’s the lack of funding to find a cure and lack of education to each school administrators, family members, judges, law enforcement, and lawmakers. —Marla Durkin-Pope

My hope for you both is that you find comfort and kindness in those of us who, even in a small way, understand and empathize with the experience you now have to go through.  We wish you could have known earlier that there were people much like you, struggling to find answers, comprehend, and keep ourselves afloat. —Jenifer and Jim Walsh


Their letters are reprinted in full with their authors’ permission below.

***

Dear Robert and Arlene,

We want you to know that you are not alone. There is an entire community of parents who understand and support you. We are the mothers of children who have been diagnosed with serious mental illness. Some of our children have committed violent crimes, and some of us simply understand how these tragedies can occur as a result of a brain disease.

Last summer my 12-year-old daughter Morgan was charged with the crime that would be dubbed by the media as the “Slender Man Stabbing.” One moment she and her two best friends were eating donuts at my kitchen table. The next moment, she had been charged with a crime of unimaginable violence, and was torn suddenly and unexpectedly from my home.

You have expressed feeling guilt for not knowing your son had mental illness. I know how that feels. I didn't know that my daughter was sick, either. She was only diagnosed with schizophrenia after being declared incompetent to stand trial and being evaluated at a state psychiatric facility. I feel as though my guilt for not knowing Morgan was sick will forever consume me from the inside out.

Please do not hesitate to reach out to us for support. If you feel uncomfortable doing that, please know we all hold you close to our hearts.

Angie Geyser

***

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Holmes,

I am the proud mom of a 32-year-old adult son who has a 16-year history with serious mental illness. He was diagnosed at the age of 16 with bipolar disorder following his first hospitalization. He has been involuntarily hospitalized over 50 times. His diagnosis has changed to schizoaffective disorder. He suffers from a lack of insight, which is called anosognosia. He does not think he has a mental illness even though he has spent the majority of his adult life in locked psychiatric facilities.

We managed to keep our son out of the criminal justice system until 2012 when he was arrested while on a hospital unit at Napa State Hospital in California and charged with assault. He has been deemed incompetent to stand trial four times. Today he sits in jail awaiting a bed in a state hospital.

In May 2015, I travelled to Washington DC to speak on Capitol Hill about my family’s tragedy. I joined families from across the nation who refuse to be silent and let our families and communities continue to suffer. We all believe in treatment before tragedy!

Your son and your family are in my heart and thoughts. We are with you, and you are not alone.

My best,
Teresa Pasquini

***

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Holmes:

My family member suffers from schizoaffective disorder with constant psychosis. There’s just something about psychotic illnesses that make us all feel alone.  It’s so isolating.  In James’s case, it’s worse because his illness impacted so many others. The system should have provided treatment to him to prevent tragedies that happen too often.

I’m so thankful that my family member has not hurt anyone--yet.  But for the last four months, he’s mostly stayed in his room.  He lives in fear every day because his “spirits” constantly threaten his life.  I can’t leave him alone at times, because his fear of being killed is so great.  I worry that these spirits will cause him to act out and hurt himself or someone else.  I know that my loved one could experience what your son’s illness did to him.

I’m fortunate because he lives with me.  I can keep an eye on him and am aware of changes that could be red flags.  You weren’t in the same town, let alone the same state as James.  There is no way you could have known what his illness was planning.

And that’s just it.  It’s the illness that controlled him.  It wasn’t your beautiful son who hurt all those people.  It was the untreated brain illness that is so misunderstood.

I hope James gets the treatment he needs and deserves.  And I hope you both can have some peace.  You hear some very ignorant statements about your son.  It is my hope that we can educate people to understand that people with schizophrenia are not evil; they are ill. 

I’m sending good thoughts to you and your family.  I hope you know that you are not alone, and there are many of us who would welcome you!

Sincerely,

Kathy Day

***

Dear Robert and Arlene:

People look at me cross-eyed when I say we're lucky my son Tim was diagnosed with schizophrenia as a child. 

He was 11 when we first got the diagnosis, the last in a long line of them, from autism to speech disorders to depression and bipolar disorder. He was in a psychiatric hospital when he was diagnosed, after a suicide attempt that forced us to acknowledge he was sick.  Three years and 11 hospitalizations later, we made the agonizing decision to put Tim into long-term residential treatment because he was so delusional and so violent that we feared for his safety, our safety, and the safety of our other children.

We were alone then. We were accused of filling him with poisonous medication because we didn't feel like creating structure or enforcing rules. Strangers cursed us when he had a meltdown in public. Acquaintances felt justified in beating their breasts and declaring they would never send their children away. More children in this country die by suicide than cancer, diabetes, and every birth defect combined, but somehow, trying to keep our son alive was considered “bad parenting.”

In residential treatment, Tim learned what it was like to live without the voices. And since he was still a child, we were able to ingrain in him the importance of his meds and therapy to keep the voices at bay. We learned that our son’s illness is in his brain, not in his upbringing. He's 21 now.  He can never be left alone for more than an hour, or his anxiety and paranoia kick in.  He takes his meds, and today, they are working.

But I remember watching him being frisked by the sheriff we had to call after he broke every door in the house and threatened to kill us. There's a razor thin line between that day and today. We spend every day staving off a return to that day.  We know we're lucky to have the opportunity to do so. We could have so easily been where you are. 

We will continue to keep you in our prayers. 

Tom and Chrisa Hickey

***
Dear Robert and Arlene,

I have a 26 year old son who has been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. He was only 19 when he had a complete break with reality, and we were able to get a diagnosis. I have been luckier than most because he knew something was wrong, and we were able to get help; however, I am fully aware that might not have been the case. I tell you this because I want you to know that the pain and the suffering you and your son are going through are always on my mind.

I know that the seriously mentally ill are operating with a sick brain, and your son’s actions were due to that sickness. I hope your son is judged with compassion and given the help and care he needs. I also hope you know that you are not alone in this. We have a community of parents and caregivers of those with serious mental illnesses, and we care and support each other. I hope you can find us and take some comfort in knowing you are not judged by us.

Sincerely,

Marcie Bitler Sohara

***

Dear Arlene and Robert,

I want to thank you for speaking up in response to the “evil” and “monster” taglines used liberally by the media towards your son James. Thank you for being brave enough to endure people spewing anger and hatred towards you as you attempt to educate our nation on the painful reality that serious mental illness can be fatal if left untreated and how a devastating psychiatric diagnosis like schizophrenia can wreak havoc on an individual’s life, stealing the ability to reason and decide rationally and potentially leading to tragic outcomes.

I cannot imagine how you must feel as parents, going through the courtroom experiences when what your son really needs and deserves is to be in a psychiatric hospital. I understand personally about losing an adult child to an illness that steals his mind and free will, and I know what it is like to watch helplessly as people judge and condemn your child for behaviors resulting from a brain that is too sick to understand the consequences.

My 22-year-old son is mentally ill and spent the majority of his childhood and all of his adolescence in clinical day programs or locked residential facilities “for safety.” Despite the fact that he was disabled, receiving SSI, and was never was never able to manage his life in a safe manner, when he aged into adulthood, he received his shoe laces back and a plane ticket “home “and free reign to manage his life completely without “interference from his parents” (his case manager’s words).

Within months of returning home, he had multiple run-ins with the law, several psychiatric hospitalizations, and he was kicked out of two group homes. We begged our county health department to put him in a hospital. We presented 500 pages of medical records and his doctors’ letters advising he be reinstitutionalized for treatment of his illness. This meant nothing to Orange County. Our son was an adult now, and his right to have irrational thoughts flying loose in his mind were supported by maladaptive laws written in the 1960s that make one thing crystal clear: after age 18, our boy would have to present as a “danger to self or others” if he was ever going to be returned to a safe residential facility. There was nothing his father and I could do but watch helplessly as he was consumed by the revolving door.

He went missing for days at a time, and started smoking pot and drinking often. We were constantly worried, not only of what would happen to him but also about collateral damage that might be inflicted in the community. Less than 36 hours after his last release, he walked into Bank of America with a threat scribbled on a sticky note to blow up the place if the teller didn’t hand over a thousand dollars. He will spend the next 13 years in the California State Prison. He has spent many months in solitary confinement and now has “Crazy Boy” literally tattooed across his young face; despite this, he has been denied his psychiatric medicine because he is not “sick enough.” in other words, we have to wait until his mental state declines even more before he qualifies for his psychiatric meds that he has taken since age 12.

Our jails have become hospitals, but they use pepper spray instead of a syringe. Nearly percent of prison inmates have a serious mental illness. The deinstitutionalion experiment has cost countless lives; families have lived with personal tragedies of lost loved ones for decades without anyone taking notice. Only when our sick kids explode in the community do people share an opinion. You are not alone. I am praying for everyone who has been impacted by our broken mental health system and for treatment for James.

Kindly,

Jennifer Hoff

***

Dear Robert and Arlene,

I have a 30-year old daughter who has been sick since high school. When her problems first started, we took her to psychologist who diagnosed her with “normal teenage defiance.” For ten years, no one knew what was going on in her beautiful sick brain. They call it “presenting well.” In secret, she sees aliens, a FBI informant, the Messiah, and I can go on and on. Finally, after ten years, her illness got so bad that other signs related to schizophrenia became apparent.

It took three misdiagnoses from professionals and education on my part to really grasp what was going on when those external signs started to become apparent. Please don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault; it’s not your son’s fault; it’s not your husband’s fault. It’s your son’s brain disease. It’s our broken mental health system. It’s the lack of funding to find a cure and lack of education to each school administrators, family members, judges, law enforcement, and lawmakers.  

There are many parents like you out there who support you, love you, and will be there in spirit with you every day in that court room! Please come to our groups on Facebook. You have a support system of loved ones whose family members have a brain disease like your son. Become advocates. You have the support to fight for your son’s life, and his life matters!

Hugs!

Marla Durkin-Pope

***

The bravest are the most tender – The loving are the daring. –Bayard Taylor

Dear Robert and Arlene,

Underneath the sullen and distant façade lies the heart of a sweet young man.  Our son longed to be free. 

At the tender age of 13, our son attempted to end his life so that he would no longer be tormented by the voices, commands and “Book” in his head that told him to do things.  Our son struggled with violence at home, epic meltdowns, running away, isolation, threatening suicide constantly, and enormous anxiety and paranoia since age 7.  I read more than I ever thought I could read.  I was mocked by psychologists and condescended to by psychiatrists, until my son’s suicide attempt resulted in a diagnosis of early onset schizophrenia. 

When he had his psychotic break, he spent 42 days in a behavioral health hospital, where he was finally put on the last resort medication.  We are grateful and fortunate that it is working for him and keeping the suicidal ideation and hallucinations away.  We also know the damage that has been done to our family.  Another of my sons has a serious mental illness as well.  We struggle.

My hope for you both is that you find comfort and kindness in those of us who, even in a small way, understand and empathize with the experience you now have to go through.  We wish you could have known earlier that there were people much like you, struggling to find answers, comprehend, and keep ourselves afloat.

Brene Brown shared “Empathy’s the antidote to shame: The two most powerful words when we’re in struggle: me too.”

Your family is in our prayers.  Please let yourselves be supported.

With love,

Jenifer and Jim Walsh