While You Were Out: An Intimate Family Portrait of Mental Illness in an Era of Silence

by Meg Kissinger

To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go —MARY OLIVER, “IN BLACKWATER WOODS”

The names and many of the details were different, but I quickly picked up on a universal theme: People are frantic to get care for their family members suffering from mental illness. They didn’t know whom to call. They were either too embarrassed to talk to anyone about it or they couldn’t find anyone who would listen. So, they watched, day after day, while a little bit more of the person they loved disappeared before their eyes. They were confused, angry, and frustrated. But, mostly, they were terrified.

Only love and understanding can conquer this disease.

In headlines and news copy, we call them “the mentally ill.” In truth, they are our mothers and fathers, our brothers and sisters. They are us.

No one wants to be held behind a locked door or forced to take medication that makes you groggy. But when should a person’s right to autonomy yield to their safety or the safety of others?

The county was pouring most of its resources into emergency psychiatric care with little regard for preventive care or long-term treatment, the equivalent of putting a Band-Aid on a broken leg when the real problem is bone cancer.

They both seemed to put up with their sons’ bad behavior either out of a sense of guilt or because they lacked the energy to fight back.