Personally Speaking: You’ve Got a Friend in Me

Personally Speaking: You’ve Got a Friend in Me 

By Emily Kubera  

I didn’t know anything about severe mental illness in the winter of 2018 when my friend had a manic episode and tried to kill herself in my apartment. 

I felt panicked when speaking to my friend’s mother. I tried to explain what was going on, and she said to take her to the hospital and do what I thought was best. I didn’t know what I thought was best. I was 21. What did I know? 

It was freezing out, so I grabbed my friend’s jean jacket and convinced her to get into my car, and finally with a little more convincing, to go into the hospital.  

I didn’t understand why my friend was able to check herself out of treatment a few days later even though it had only been three days. I felt scared, not knowing what I was going to come home to and mad that she didn’t understand why I was worried about her.  

I was hired at the Treatment Advocacy Center seven months after my friend’s suicide attempt. I wanted to work in fundraising, and I knew the work that the Treatment Advocacy Center did was important.  

A large part of my job when I first started was answering the main office phone. That number is regularly called by family members that are all at different parts of their journey to getting their loved one into treatment for their severe mental illness.  

I’ve listened to family members cry about why the system has failed their loved one and how they wish they would comply with their medication. I’ve had people yell at me because I didn’t have an answer for how to get their child out of jail and into treatment. It didn’t bother me that people would yell at me or would spend 45 minutes crying to me. The person on the other end of the phone just needed someone to listen to them cry or have someone to blame for their situation.  

The hardest calls for me were the ones from parents who had exhausted all of their options, done everything right and still couldn’t get their child what they needed. It is very difficult to tell a parent that they have done everything right but there is nothing else that can be done right now. I could hear in their voices how desperately they wanted there to be something else they could do to help their child.  

When other staff members would take calls, I was never worried that they wouldn’t give the calls the same care and compassion that I would. The Treatment Advocacy Center is unique because our staff is comprised of family members of loved ones with severe mental illness and people who have directly felt the impact of the broken mental health care system. The staff knows what is at risk if we don’t fight to fix the system. 

After college, I wanted to work for an organization that fought for people and told their stories. And that’s what the Treatment Advocacy Center does. In many ways, working here has been healing. I think back to driving my friend to the hospital, and not knowing what to do.  

But honestly, I could have known everything I do now and it wouldn’t have mattered. I had done everything right on that January night. But knowing you did everything right still doesn’t change the situation. 

What gives me comfort now is knowing that there is a place that shows people compassion and understands what it’s like to have a loved one with severe mental illness and truly mean it when they say “I understand.” 

Emily Kubera is the development and communications manager at Treatment Advocacy Center.