This is a beautiful picture of my grandmother, the second one from the right. Smiling, young, and nothing like I remember her. Not too long after this was taken, she was diagnosed with schizophrenia. My grandfather, an alcoholic, wanted nothing to do with her and had her institutionalized because it was more convenient. That’s what they did back then. By the time I came around, my grandmother wasn’t sick enough for a full-time hospital stay. She lived in a small house and, for a time, was my primary babysitter. My mother worked full-time, and my father was not in the picture. But it didn’t matter because, as a 6-year-old child, I knew my grandmother loved me so much. She spoiled me as best she could, and we were best friends.
As with anyone you spend a great deal of time with, you eventually see all their sides; for my grandmother, that included the times when the “ghosts” would talk to her. I should say these ghosts were always talking to her; they were always putting her down and making her feel bad. Telling her she wasn’t worthy enough to live the life ordinary people lived and that staying inside the house was her only option. At times, we would go to the store, but she hated it and would blame the ghosts for why we needed to hurry and go home. That was the extent of her dealings with the world except sitting on the porch watching it go by. One memory that still brings tears to my eyes is when we were at the store getting food, and I wanted a toy in one of the aisles. She said no, and she didn’t have a lot of money anyway, so we left.
When we got home, I went to play in my room, and the next thing I knew, the police were in the house with my mother and uncle there; something was wrong. It turned out that my grandmother had an episode of the ghosts talking to her that was so bad that she felt she needed to go back to the psychiatric hospital. But before she did, she returned to the store, bought me the toy, wrote Love Grandma on it, called my mom and the police, and hopped in a taxi to take her to the hospital. It was traumatic, to say the least, and I never stopped trying and wanting to help my grandmother get better; she never did. She was in and out of hospitals and convalescent homes in the years ahead, and one day, no doubt after another episode, she grabbed all the pills from the unattended nurses’ station and took her own life. The ghosts were always a part of her world and, I believe, eventually ended her world. She never had a chance to live the life most people take for granted. She never had any hope and there was also no doubt how much she loved me and how she tried so hard to shield that little 6-year-old boy the best she could from her pain. In my eyes, she was one of the bravest people I have known. It takes strength to live with mental illness. Most people have no idea how much.
So, after spending decades in the media space, creating news and entertainment content, this is one idea I’ve been working on for years: create “hope” and destigmatize mental health. Last year, I was joined by my now Co-Founders, who have the same vision for mental health. Also, with the advent of streaming and social media (the good parts about it) and a growing acknowledgment that mental health needs to be discussed, the timing was finally right to put this out in the universe; all with the hope of helping people like my grandmother and the many who live in painful silence. That includes the families (like ours) who endured watching their loved ones suffer. Finally, millions are just feeling a little overwhelmed with the daily grind or dealing with a life event and need someone to help them get back on track. I have felt this way as an adult and went to therapy myself. I know it works.
So, we have assembled a great team of people passionate about making a difference. We are therapists, journalists, and storytellers, so many stories are ready to be told in the mental health sector, each one with the potential to be a seed of hope. Stories that reinforce that no matter how you feel, you are not alone. This is our mission and my purpose, and I would like to think that would make my grandmother smile.
