Jasmine discusses almost losing her daughter during the pandemic.

Trigger warning: self-harm, suicide

I noticed she was more withdrawn, but I assumed it was the typical 14-year-old behavior. Spending her first year of high school online was not all she had in mind. I gave her space to show her that I understood what she was going through. The fact that my brilliant, creative, precious 14-year-old daughter would attempt to end her life just didn’t seem possible. Until it happened.

I was in a great mood that October day. It was Taco Tuesday and Vice President Kamala Harris’s birthday. I was ready to eat tacos and drink margaritas to celebrate her. As I walked in the door, I got an all too familiar notification on my cell that Amaya was failing a class. Usually, this would incite an argument, but I was not in the mood. I made, what I thought, was a harmless remark towards her because I didn’t even want to get into it. I just wanted her to do the dishes and go upstairs.  

That “harmless” remark turned into an argument. It got so heated that I decided to take a shower to think. That’s when my daughter decided to lock herself in her room and swallow over thirty pills. She commented to her cousin about it, who then told her mom. My sister-in-law busted into her room, immediately took her to the bathroom, and shoved her fingers down her throat. I was out of the shower and alerted to what was going on by screaming and crying coming from the bathroom. I often think that if they hadn’t been there, I would have lost my daughter.        

We sat in the car in the garage as she cried and shivered while I called the National Suicide Hotline. After explaining to them the situation, they transferred me to poison control. Although she had thrown everything up, she still consumed a highly toxic amount of Acetomenophine. So it was suggested we go immediately to the hospital.  

The drive to the hospital was a blur. I could not believe this was happening to my family. My husband was working in Las Vegas, and I remember calling to tell him what happened on the drive to the hospital. I’m not even sure if the words coming out of my mouth made sense. I remember saying to her, “I can’t believe you tried to leave me. Why would you want to leave me?” while she vomited and shivered in the passenger seat. Probably not the most appropriate thing to say at the time, but the reality of what was happening began to hit me.  

We arrived at Children’s Hospital and started to check-in. They hooked her up to machines and kept her overnight with plans to release her to a behavioral health center in the morning. Unfortunately, there were many mental health incidents involving adolescents in the Denver area. As a result, we would have to go to Colorado Springs (approximately 70 miles away) for treatment. However, we got lucky that morning, and she transferred to downtown Denver where she would spend three nights getting psychiatric treatment.

I visited her every day during her admission. The whole time, I was worried that she would hate being there. To my surprise, she was making friends and having a great time. I think being able to be around other teens for the first time in a long time helped. I didn’t realize how lonely she had been. I listened to her talk about the people she met with enthusiasm and I started to see small bits of my daughter again.

During our joint therapy sessions, I learned that this was her second attempt in two months and that she was self-harming by cutting her legs. On her final night there, her psychiatrist officially diagnosed her with major depressive disorder and ADHD. To be released, she had to write a safety plan for if she ever felt the urge to do this again. She listed people she would call and talk to instead of turning to self-harm. I had to take safety measures at the house, which included removing her door and making sure all medicines and sharp objects were out of reach.

Something good did come out of this traumatic event. I was finally motivated to address my own mental health. I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety in my early 20s and had been on medication for years. I was finally ready to take that final step and add therapy to my mental health journey. I was very aware that I had issues that I needed to deal with, now was the time to do it. I knew I would not be able to help my daughter if I couldn’t help myself.

It has now been almost a year since that day. Amaya has recently celebrated her 15th birthday, her grades have drastically improved, and she is much happier. She’s involved in the BSU, choir, and video game club at her high school. She’s picked up a gaming/computer hobby and is currently teaching herself Japanese. I have my vibrant, happy teen again.

As we wrap up National Suicide Prevention Month, I wanted to share our story because I don’t think we talk enough about mental health, especially with our children. There is such a stigma around these issues that cause people to ignore or deny symptoms. We clearly understand that we have to take care of our physical health, but when it comes to our mental health, we sometimes feel ashamed and don’t speak up until it is too late. It is time we all start paying more attention to our mental well-being. To parents of children who struggle with mental illness, I want you to know there is hope. With lots of work, patience, and understanding you will see your child smiling again. I sure did.

Jasmine

A Black woman, a Libra, a wine enthusiast, and a canna mom trying to live her best life.  Born and raised in the DMV, now living in the city of sin.