Every person living with mental illness has a story, most have family and friends that share their struggles, and too often the pain that comes with mental illness. My story goes back to 1999 when I moved to Albuquerque. I started volunteering at a drop-in center called the Center for Homeless Youth. There, I met many young people who lived with mental illness, but I grew close to one young woman in particular, who became like a little sister to me and my chosen family for 26 years.
Stacey had a horrible childhood, which could only be described as torture. She had complex PTSD and schizophrenia, among other behavioral health challenges, and keeping her housed was a challenge. There were many young homeless people I connected with back then, but Stacey stood out because she was small and vulnerable and yet always thought about others. If she had a sandwich and you didn’t, she would share her sandwich even if she was starving and even if she didn’t like you. I am eternally grateful to the woman who started and ran the drop-in center, who helped Stacey find housing, obtain SSI, and achieve some stability in her life. Stacey dreamed of being a chef, but unfortunately, the severity of her mental illness made this unlikely.
From those early days, I have been a main support for Stacey. Back then, before cell phones were ubiquitous, I’d be afraid to answer the phone, fearing it might be Stacey needing rescued. I saw how many people would take advantage of her kindness and innocence, yet she still wanted to help others. I started giving Stacey a little money for food, and she used it to feed herself and other people. I once told her that I was giving her the money so she could eat, and it bothered me when she would feed other people and still go hungry. She told me, “Dan, I don’t ask for more money, but if you give me money to help me, why shouldn’t I do the same for others?”. That’s why we became so close. Stacey considers the needs of others even when her needs are not always met.
In March of 2024, Stacey was diagnosed with cervical cancer. The other people in her life who have been significant sources of support have died or moved on, and so, I took on the primary responsibility of helping her through this journey. I decided not to go back to work as a school social worker and became her full-time caregiver. Her mental illness complicated her treatment and made it more difficult for her, for me, and the many medical professionals caring for her. As her caregiver, I have spent more time with her than ever before. I’ve been there when she wakes up screaming from a dream of her traumatic past. I’ve been beside her when symptoms of her schizophrenia are on full display, and at times, it has been overwhelming.
I have never struggled with my mental health as much as I have in the past year. There have been times I wanted to escape. I’ve thought about wanting to be dead or for her to die. Fortunately, I have friends I can talk to and people who can support me when I am struggling. Stacey is now past the worst of her treatments, and things have eased up for both of us. I’m starting to make more time for myself and looking forward to returning to work as a social worker. I don’t know how long Stacey will live; cancer took a lot out of her, and her mental illness has worsened. People always tell me how fortunate she is to have me in her life. And while I know that is true, I also know how much she has added to my life. Stacey has always done her best to make me feel special by expressing how much I mean to her and how much better I have made her life. Whatever life has in store for us in the future, I know we are stronger together.
Dan Frampton, LCSW
Board President, Breaking the Silence NM
