My sweet, youngest of 3 boys, Ty took his own life on July 4th of this year. I am obviously shattered. He was struggling with depression, anxiety and recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I saw it coming. I told everyone, anyone who would listen. I felt I was shouting from the rooftops and no one could hear me. I yelled at his father (we divorced when Ty was six, and in the last year Ty was living there). I TOLD him it was happening, that it's real. I told him. I did everything I knew to do- constantly reaching out to my son, telling him "I'm here", intervening with doctors, admitting him to a treatment center. I have experience, having lost Ty's first stepfather to suicide in 2008 and my mother to a not-so-accidental overdose just last year. I have to wonder- just how much can one person take? I am 45 yrs old and gave the ashes of my son, my mother and my husband in my bedroom.
