With her permission, I would like to share this story my eldest child, Charla, wrote for her college psychology class. It is about Brett, my youngest son. I shared an earlier piece about him that you can read here.
Yesterday, I had a group presentation in my psychology class about depression, bipolar disorder, and suicide. Each us had a different section and mine was depression. We agreed to pick real-life examples of people who struggle(d) with each of these things. At the beginning of our presentation, we had picture cards with a blurb of the person’s story on the back. We picked several people to get up in front of the class to show the picture and read the blurb to everyone.
My real-life example was about Brett.
An older man, Tom, agreed to read Brett’s story to the class. On the front of the card was this picture:
And on the back, Tom read this blurb to the class:
My name is Brett. I love superheroes, music, and my brother and sister. I am only 7-years-old when I start going through depression. My dad is a drug addict and an alcoholic, and he is verbally and emotionally abusive toward me. My mom tries to protect me, but she has to be away from the house during the day because she works to support our family. I am afraid to be alone in the house with my dad. I can’t force myself to smile or laugh. I spend most days hiding in my room, and eating to make myself feel better. I don’t believe that anyone truly loves me. I am not even sure that I am worth loving.
It was so touching because, during the middle, Tom got all choked up and he struggled to finish reading it. As he went to sit down, my professor said, “Wow. That must’ve been really hard to read.”
Later on in my presentation, I shared a bit more of Brett’s story with this slide: Continue reading Charla’s Story About Brett