Help Support Paul's Mental Health Recovery

“In the midst of the pandemic in 2021, I almost lost the love of my life. And then she nearly lost me - over and over again. The fact that I am able to write to you now is still astonishing to me.”

This is a story about the lies depression tells, about how the smallest crack in the encircling isolating wall it forms can let moisture in, and over time, through freeze and thaw, enough light can penetrate to make it possible to see out, and to continue. We hope that it will also be a story that helps break the silence surrounding mental illness and normalizes including our community in the opportunity to support us.

We know that talking openly and frankly about mental health is something new to many of you, even people who are close to us, so we ask that you sit with that discomfort and stay curious about where it comes from. A question that we ask ourselves that we have found helps us push through the discomfort is - What if it was potentially terminal cancer? Diabetes? MS? Mental health is health, and silence can be fatal.

“I wanted to take mental illnesses and emotional disorders out of the closet, to let people know it is all right to admit having a problem without fear of being called crazy. If only we could consider mental illnesses as straightforwardly as we do physical illnesses, those affected could seek help and be treated in an open and effective way.” - Rosalynn Carter, from her 1984 book, First Lady from Plains

In Paul’s Words:

In the midst of the pandemic in 2021, I almost lost the love of my life. And then she nearly lost me - over and over again. The fact that I am able to write to you now is still astonishing to me.

About Us

Hannah and I have been together since 2008, and have loved each other through a tremendous amount of personal and societal change. We were finally married in 2018, and in 2019 we became foster parents, now having provided a home to seven amazing children.

The Straws Pile Up

During the pandemic, the wear of working full time, parenting full time, the discovery of lead paint exposure for our children who were home all day from daycare, and worry for two of our other children who had been reunified into an unsafe situation, along with being so isolated began to weigh on me more and more.

Then in January of 2021, Hannah went to the ER for chest pain that turned out to be caused by six pulmonary embolisms and a deep vein thrombosis. It all became too much and overnight I couldn’t breathe anymore. I couldn’t see my future. I couldn’t see anything and the psychological pain was just too much. I started experiencing acute suicidal ideation (SI) and couldn’t think of anything else. I finally broke down and told Hannah, who jumped into action.

A Crisis Point

For over a year I struggled, trying every different medication possible with little help. I became unable to work, feel joy, or inhabit myself. I did not tell anyone else because of the stigma and being ashamed. In February of 2022, the interventional psychiatry treatment I was on at Yale stopped working, and any remaining shred of hope I had drained away as I continued to fortify the walls that hid my secret.

Somehow, the last bit of will in me helped me to reveal to my doctor how much I was struggling. I checked into the hospital and began a new treatment protocol at Yale New Haven Hospital in earnest.

Treatment Tradeoffs

The treatment protocol that has worked for me has the longest track record of any mental health treatment. It is administered under general anesthesia and involves passing a small electrical current through the brain to induce a brief seizure. After nearly 100 years of use, the mechanism by which this treatment works remains unclear, but the current understanding is that the seizure activity produces helpful changes to the brain's chemistry and neuroplasticity. This treatment, Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT), was started in the 1930s, and the protocols have evolved by leaps and bounds (think about the difference between a Tesla and a car from the 1930s). While ECT may sound intimidating and has a very troubling history, particularly for the non-consensual use of ECT on LGBTQ+ people (including an acquaintance of mine from college) it is important that people know that it is a valuable therapeutic option. The side effects of the treatment, particularly the severe impacts on my long and short-term memory and cognitive challenges that come along with it are difficult, but - it works where nothing else has. Many patients need only a dozen treatments before being able to go months or years without treatment, during which time the memory and cognitive side effects of ECT usually dissipate. In my case, I have had over 75 treatments and have been unable to extend my treatment interval beyond 2 weeks apart without losing a dangerous amount of progress.

Finding Hope

After a month in the hospital, and over the course of months of treatments (sometimes 3 times a week), the ECT began to work. As my SI and depression began to lift, I experienced a new lightness and lack of despair that was entirely unfamiliar to me. I kept asking Hannah “Is this what other people feel like all the time?!”

Having gone through every standard mental health program and struggling to find trans-competent providers with the level of experience necessary to treat me, I have finally been able to piece together a treatment protocol that has allowed me to gradually reach a point where, even when my depression and SI recurr, I can believe there is a way to feel better.

I now find myself having hours or days at a time where I am content, safe inside myself, and happy in a way I have never experienced before in my life. Not every day is a good one, and I have continued to struggle with acute SI on and off, but I’m making progress.

While we are grateful that our health insurance has covered parts of my treatment, the out-of-pocket costs and financial trials of going from crisis to crisis have drained our coffers.

The Long Road to Healing

I am working on this long journey to figure out the new me, build a community of support, particularly with other LGBTQAI+ people, strengthen relationships, and make up for lost joy. It is such a miraculous gift to be actually present in my daily life many days. It hasn’t been easy and there have been a lot of ups and downs, but the downs don’t go as low as they used to and the ups go higher than before. Because of my condition, I know that managing depression will be a lifelong task.

Breaking the Silence

I’ve kept this journey to myself, but now, I’m done keeping secrets for my illness. To my friends and family who had a sense of what’s been going on and have reached out to me - thank you so much. For most of you, who did not know, please understand that I’ve been so deeply incapacitated by illness and shame that it has taken me literally years to be at a place where I am ready and able to talk about it.

It has been hard to accept this much love, but I’m learning to believe you when you say I am worth it. Never doubt that a word, a message, a smile might mean everything to someone.

Working to Stay Well

My treatments come at a physical, cognitive and financial cost, and I am finally at a place where I am well enough most days to do the work that will help me stay well. Maintaining access to what’s working for me is critical helping me maintain my progress. If you are able to help make that happen with financial support, any amount would be very welcome.

I am not alone, and neither are you

To anyone struggling with mental illness; know that you are not alone. I know I will always have depression but I am going to work really hard at keeping it under control. When I am most ill, I know with every bone in my body that there is no hope of ever feeling any better, and yet, here I am, feeling better. And you can be too.

In Hannah’s Words:

It is difficult to capture the chilling and powerless heartbreak that comes with knowing that no matter how much I love him, when he is deep in illness, nothing I can control can bring Paul back to me. He has to do that himself, with the help of as many people as possible.

With other potentially fatal illnesses, the illness is the mutual enemy of the person experiencing it and their caregivers. With depression and SI, the illness has direct access to the person I love most and insinuates itself between us, putting us on opposite sides of a deeply intimate battle. Psychic pain such as depression is excruciating to experience and to witness. Add to that the unparalleled torture of navigating the absolutely byzantine mental health and insurance system, caregiving for an extremely ill partner, parenting toddlers, my own physical health journey, and the financial challenges attendant with all of this, and these past few years have been the most difficult of my life.

These years have also held within them pockets of joy I could never have imagined. We were able to buy a fixer-upper with the help of family and get away from the lead hazards in our rental, we adopted our two incredible spitfire babies, now 4 and 5, and day by day I see more and more of the person at the core of the human I am still head over heels for after almost 15 years. Life is fragile and so very precious and I value it now, pain and joy, in a way I could not have before walking through these trials.

The good news is that, after a long and arduous journey, Paul is finally beginning to be able to take on more of his own care and well-being, and we are emerging from crisis mode. He's made incredible progress and is on the path to healing, thanks to lucky breaks that allowed him to finally find the right care, access to pioneering interventional psychiatry research at Yale, the support of people who love him, mental healthcare professionals, and the indefatigable spark of self at the core of who he is.

I am so grateful for the support of our families, our wonderful friends, my incredible colleagues who have stepped in to help with my work, my wise pals who have forced me to rest and accept help, and the people in my life who have offered their own experience and expertise around mental health.

Thank you for considering helping us to continue to afford Paul’s treatment and recover financially from this trying time.

How you can help us:

How you can help others:

We're not alone in our battle. There are countless individuals who suffer silently, afraid to talk about their mental health challenges and suicidal thoughts. We want to change that. We want to shed light on this often stigmatized and misunderstood issue.

Resources to learn more:

If you have…

All Our Love,

Paul + Hannah