I quickly tried to get into my car after leaving the Adolescent and Adolescent Mental Health Unit at North York General Hospital. My 14-year-old daughter Maddie had been staying there for the past month following her second suicide attempt.
I wanted to isolate myself from the eyes that were watching and scrutinizing me. Dealing with a child asking whether they want to live or not is the most painful thing you can imagine as a parent. It's been four months since Maddie's first attempt, and I'm not sure we're making any progress.
I opened the car door, fell into the front seat, covered my face with my hands, and started crying. I wanted to believe that Maddie would get better and that everything would be okay the next time we visited. We've been visiting Maddie every day since she was readmitted to the hospital, and honestly, I've left every day feeling completely upset.
The staff at the unit were great. They were compassionate and dedicated. As a parent, I didn't want to stop believing that this would end positively. Each tear revealed a thousand fears running through my head. As a parent, you can't help but be affected when your child struggles. It really is death from thousands of wounds. I'm willing to accept it if it guarantees a positive ending, but there are no guarantees when it comes to your mental health.