I don’t know how I can withstand many more periods of grave darkness. “Oh, you can do it. Your faith is strong,” someone might say. But in the darkness, God seems invisible.
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I grew up with mental illness in the family. I watched my parents struggle to cope with this often-misunderstood disability. Fifty years later, we are still trying to deal with it as everyday the specter of misunderstood behavior invades our otherwise normal lives.