Pete Earley

I wish to thank those of you who sent me emails or posted comments on Facebook about my recent Father’s Day blog. I was deeply touched by the concern and support that I received. I also appreciate how many of you shared your stories with me about your own parents and other loved ones with dementia.  Knowing that you cared enough to reach out to my family was deeply appreciated. 

I also have some good news to share.

Publishers Weekly, the bible of publishing, named the memoir that I have written with Jessie Close as one of the Top Ten Memoirs being published this fall. RESILIENCE will be officially published January 6th but is available for pre-order now. Grand Central Publishing announced an initial press run of 150,000 hardbacks. That’s more than any book I have participated in writing.

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A FATHER’S DAY GOODBYE

Published in THE WASHINGTON POST  on Sunday, June 22

 By Pete Earley    

Father’s Day found me with a man who often doesn’t remember who I am, although we have spent much of his 93 years together. My father has dementia.

Five years ago, I persuaded my parents to move from Spearfish, S.D., into a second house that my wife and I own that doubles as my office. Leaving a community where they were well-established was difficult. But they enjoyed seeing grandchildren, spent Saturdays at garage sales and played Upwords with me at lunch time. It was good.

I first noticed little things. Forgetfulness, confusing names. It’s part of aging, I thought.

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BITS AND PIECES FOR FRIDAY

* Jessie Close’s memoir, which I helped write, has made it through the editor’s hands and will be published in January. It’s called RESILIENCE and recounts Jessie’s recovery from a debilitating mental illness and alcoholism which together drove her to the brink of suicide. I’ll tell you more closer to the book’s release but I wanted to share the book’s cover art with you. Bravo to Jessie for having the courage to tell her story and thanks to her sister, Glenn Close, for her support, enthusiasm and encouragement throughout the book writing process.

*My Monday blog about alternatives to calling the police when someone is having a mental health crisis prompted a slew of emails. Several readers told me they didn’t want to comment on Facebook because they are strong supporters of Crisis Intervention Team training and were afraid that saying anything that might be viewed as being critical of the police could be discouraging to the CIT program.

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In the midst of news coverage about Elliot Rodgers and the Santa Barbara mass murders that he committed, The Washington Post published a news story that alarmed and saddened me.

According to the article, the parents of Blaec Lammers became concerned after the 20 year-old purchased an AR-15 rifle and admitted that he was having homicidal thoughts about going to a local movie theater or Wal Mart to shoot people. He had been diagnosed with a serious mental illness.

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I published a blog Monday written by Kathleen Maloney about her husband, Joe, who was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder but refused to believe he was ill and refused treatment. Had he been required to take medication, Kathleen believes his life could have been saved and her family would have been spared tremendous grief and loss. Her story received more hits on my Facebook page than anything previously posted there. It also received a high number of views on this page.

In today’s blog, we hear another touching, first-person account but from a completely different point of view. Leah Harris writes about her mother who had a severe mental illness and was forcibly medicated against her will.

A Daughter’s Call for Safety and Sanity in Mental Health

Written by Leah Harris for her mother, Gail Harris, 1950-1996

 Winter 1980 – Milwaukee, WI

Mama leads me by the hand out into the cold Milwaukee night.  I am four years old. We wander aimlessly through the streets. I am wearing a pink felt coat that goes down to the tops of my knees, and underneath that only a thin summer sundress. My white nylon knee socks stretch up to just below my knees, and I can feel the stinging wind against my reddening my kneecaps. Mama is mumbling to herself about Dr. Mengele again.  My head feels raw and exposed.  My mitten-less hand in hers soon turns into a chunk of ice. 

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I am publishing two personal stories this week by readers who describe their encounters with our failing mental health system from much different perspectives.

My Husband Joe 

By Kathleen Maloney

My husband Joe and I enjoyed 18 wonderful years together. We had a beautiful daughter and our lives were filled with love, laughter, joy, hard work and exciting plans for the future.

That was before he got sick, before he was diagnosed with a mental illness.

The first sign came in December 2003 two weeks after Joe got laid off  from a company where he had worked for 20 years. On Christmas Day, he became so distraught he collapsed on the floor. At the emergency room, a doctor suggested that it was stress that caused him to become depressed. Joe calmed down and we made a follow up appointment with our doctor. Click to continue…