The Perspective of Mr. I - by Mr. I & Christy

Something beautiful happened yesterday and it brought me to tears.  While I have begun to share our journey, my son is well aware of why I am doing what I do. He has been helpful in accepting and understanding why I created a website to give others a voice .  After years of being in crisis mode and watching my child fight for life, we have reached the stage of recovery and acceptance. He faced a long battle and felt as if no one would help him.  This strong urge and feeling hit me like a ton of bricks, confirming that we had found our purpose. We wanted to end the silence. I told Mr. I that I would give him a section to add anything he felt was necessary. I will not alter his writing or correct his spelling because it is his. He even added a picture to match his momma. This is my son's beautiful mind at work, and that is all that is required. If you have been following along, you will understand when I say he is my perfect "imperfectly perfect" son, which is fine. He has trouble writing by hand, but if you give him a keyboard and a computer, he can tell you a story. I could not be more proud of my child. I am not sure how often he will write. Regardless, this message is lovely, and I felt compelled to share it. He just decided what he was going to write. I had no idea what he had in mind to say. 

Sometimes your child will say hurtful things to you. If you have lived this life, you understand what I mean when I say it will hurt you to the core. The beauty of this for me is that, while I have spent a lot of time learning and understanding my son, there are some aspects that I dislike, but if you look at the "bigger picture," there is a message in your child.  This message implies that while they are in this mode, they are unable to express or explain how large and painful their internal feelings are. They are unable to comprehend, let alone explain, the magnitude of the turmoil.   While these are not your preferred words, not everything said is intended to harm. Instead, they are the ugliest words that a child can think of to express how miserable they are inside. These emotions and actions for my son seemed to grow stronger the longer he felt misunderstood and bottled up as his illness took over. With this message, I hope to instill hope and understanding that there is still a beautiful soul inside, even if it is difficult to see. They just need help figuring out how to deal with all of the big issues.  Today, I conclude my post with the thoughts and heart of my child, who wants to be a part of helping others like himself as we grow together to become stronger in this new journey of becoming a voice. It is not always a beautiful journey; it can be ugly, difficult, and downright unpleasant! Nevertheless, there is hope. 

*SEE PHOTO BELOW*