By Jan Matthews
Progress magazine, January 2009

Barrie and Linda Black’s teenage son was a typical grade 10 student enjoying a normal life—close to his siblings, parents and friends, involved in school and sports. Then he began to withdraw, started smoking and his marks dropped. He stayed out late on school nights, gave up football and rugby, stopped seeing his friends.

At first Lyndsay thought maybe her brother Simon had turned into a “badass kid.” Then, like the rest of the Black family, she came to believe that this was something more. “There is a core of goodness in Simon,” says his father. “We knew that was always there, that he was lashing out at what was happening to him.”

As we sip coffee in a restaurant overlooking Halifax Harbour, Barrie Black tells me what happened next. The late afternoon calm, crisp white tablecloths, and gleaming silverware are a comforting backdrop for our at times emotional conversation.

The Blacks began searching for the cause of the drastic changes in their son. The family doctor was the first step. Then came several more doctors, and tests to rule out a number of possibilities. They had an appointment to see a psychiatrist but were on a long waiting list. Meanwhile, after a great deal of negotiating, Barrie persuaded Simon to see a clinical psychologist. The entire family went, but the psychologist was unable to offer constructive or helpful suggestions. The situation worsened. By the time he finally did get to see the psychiatrist, Simon had to be hospitalized. He was started on medication for psychosis, but that treatment was not effective either.

The Black family’s experience is unfortunately common. Mental Health Canada estimates that one out of every five Canadians will suffer from a mental illness at some point in their life. Former federal finance minister and ambassador to the U.S., Michael Wilson, in a recent speech said, “There is nothing more stressful and isolating for parents than caring for a mentally ill child, especially if that child is in crisis.” Wilson, whose son Cameron committed suicide in 1995, is an outspoken advocate for mental health.

When a child is in crisis, a parent’s work can suffer. At the time of his son’s troubles, Barrie was general counsel and corporate secretary for NBTel, then vice-president at Aliant; he is now president and CEO of the New Brunswick Innovation Foundation. “The sharp focus directed toward your work gets deflected,” he says. The child’s problem is the parents’ problem, and that makes it the organization’s problem.

Although parents may see signs of trouble in a child early on, that doesn’t mean the problem will be diagnosed quickly. It took Barrie and Linda Black more than a year; Wilson says it takes some parents several years to get help. Parents must become advocates for services. They face long waits in the health care system. As well, treatment may not be available where they live, making travel — or a move — necessary, as was the case with the Blacks.

The welcome news is that, if diagnosed and treated early, the chances of recovering are greatly improved. Unfortunately, this is still not an easy road for many working parents with children suffering from a mental illness as the business community has many hurdles to overcome. (click here to see “What can you do?”)

Through his family’s crisis, Barrie continued to work. His boss was aware of what was going on, his assistant knew and acted as a gatekeeper and his team respected and supported him—knowing enough to knock carefully if his office door was closed. “I was open and honest with the people around me. I said, ‘Simon is ill. He has psychosis. And we’re working on it.’ ” Barrie has nothing but praise for the team of nine lawyers who reported to him. “They were so good,” he says. “They were always there for me.”

While Barrie went into work every morning, Linda continued the search for help. That search eventually led to Dr. Lili Kopala, a Halifax psychiatrist who helped start the Nova Scotia Early Psychosis program. Linda and Simon drove from their home in Rothesay, N.B., to Halifax every week for an appointment. Simon was not always happy to go along. In the evenings, though, Barrie and Simon would go outside and throw a football back and forth. This could go on, just throwing the ball back and forth, for hours. It’s how Barrie stayed connected to Simon. “We’re best friends,” says Barrie. “You’re not going to win this war without love.”

Linda and Simon eventually moved to Halifax, while Barrie stayed in Rothesay and joined them on weekends. Under Dr. Kopala’s care, Simon tried several different medications, finally finding one that worked. He started to return to health. He was able to go out and buy a newspaper, not an auspicious occasion in most families, but it was in this one. “It was,” says Barrie, “a big thing.”

At this point in his story, Barrie brightens. He even beams a little as he talks about Laing House, a downtown-Halifax centre for young people with a mental illness. People can drop in for lunch, help with YouthSpeak (members talk to high school students about their experiences), paint, write, talk, and just hang out together. Barrie says that Laing House helped Simon reconnect with the world, and got him on the path to making his own way. Simon made good friends, quit smoking, and lost the weight that had come with some of the medication. He was able to finish high school. He took courses at NSCAD University and now has a job he likes. Simon is playing golf again, and is thumping his father. “When you look at where he is now,” says Barrie, “how can you not have pride?”

Not every family’s experience with adolescent mental illness is as hopeful as the Black’s. As we sit in Hans Himmelman’s CIBC Wood Gundy office in Purdy’s Wharf Two, he describes his late daughter, Jenna, as gorgeous, a talented athlete and a great student with a good social life. He shows me her picture, which he keeps on a credenza. She was indeed beautiful, as are her two sisters, who are in the photo with her.

When Jenna was 12, she started to suffer from depression, irritability, and mood swings. She couldn’t concentrate. Soon she withdrew from her friends. “She went from being outgoing and energetic to being a recluse, dressing in black,” says Hans. “She lost her confidence. She was socially isolated. Her mum was her best friend; they had 3 a.m. talks. They’d be up all night.”

Hans and his wife took Jen to their family doctor, then to a psychiatrist. Medications were tried, but none worked. Jenna had difficulty connecting with health care professionals. It’s a familiar story for nearly every family that searches for help. Jenna’s illness put a strain on her siblings and on her parents’ marriage, says Hans. “It sucks everything out of you.”

For Hans, work was a safe haven, a refuge. “I could come here and get away from it,” he says. “It offered some relief.” A few people at work knew what was happening, but most didn’t. He didn’t talk to friends about it, either.

Hans also felt the one way he could help was to work hard to provide the financial support for Jenna’s assessment and treatment. The Himmelmans found they fell through the cracks of the adolescent and adult health care system, so their search for treatment ended up at Boston’s Massachusetts General Hospital. Jenna liked the care staff there. Dani and Jenna flew between Halifax and Boston every six weeks for three years. Although they finally found medication that helped somewhat, Hans says his daughter was never really functional. She finished high school and the folks at Laing House helped her get a job. She made a few friends and moved into her own apartment. But Jenna never stopped talking about suicide during the decade that she was ill. She died by her own hand in November of  2004 at the age of 23.

Hans and Dani Himmelman are now involved in fundraising for Laing House. Barrie and Linda Black are involved, too, as are others who have children at the centre. Linda was the chair of the 2007 and 2008 fundraising galas, and this year Dani Himmelman took on a new role, chairing a sub-committee for this year’s gala. In addition, she heads a parents’ support group at Laing House. Hans will chair the board of directors in 2009. He spoke publicly at this year’s fundraiser about his family’s experience with Jenna’s illness and death for the first time.  Along with fundraising, these parents and others are showing their support and desire to help others by sharing their stories with anyone who cares to listen.     

We should.

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Copyright Jan Matthews 2011