These are the railroad tracks that run behind the high school my children attend. That’s Graham Clarke under the sheet. Graham was 17 years old, literally a week from starting his senior year of high school to hang with friends, play lacrosse, and graduate on to his adult life.

Instead, at 6 o’clock in the morning of August 18, 2010, Graham parked his car in the school parking lot, waited for the commuter train to speed by, and stepped in front of it. I was standing on the platform at 6 o’clock that morning, 1,500 yards from where Graham stepped in front of the train. I was waiting for the train that, instead of coming to take me and hundreds of other people to work, became the blunt instrument that would take the life of the fifth teenager to commit suicide in my town in the past three years. Our town began mobilizing to work to prevent teen suicide after the first and second suicides back in 2007. An organization was formed to raise suicide awareness, reduce stigma and encourage kids to ask for help. But it still happened, over and over again. 

As I stood on the platform, the news of what had happened filtering down to me from new arrivals awaiting a train, I had a strange thought. I’m so glad my child has a diagnosed mental illness. I can hear you now.  “Um…what?” you’re uttering, shaking your head. I know glad isn’t the first word that pops into your head when you think about learning to live with Bipolar Disorder. I’m sure there are other words – scared, frustrated, tired, anxious (and some four-letter ones as well) – that come to mind much more readily. But think about what amazing mental health experts we’ve had to become to learn how to get our children through adolescence. I haven’t met a The Balanced Mind Foundation parent yet who couldn’t spot a mixed episode at 20 paces. We chart and graph and diary our children’s moods with more vigilance than an actuarial. We can tell the difference between the tears of depression and the tears of frustration simply by their sound. We are finely tuned instruments that, for better or for worse, don’t let any blip in teenage behavior go by unanalyzed. And when we sense there is cause for alarm, we call police and ambulances and doctors and hospitals and do whatever it takes to be sure our children are safe, appearances to the neighbors be damned. I know I’d never have become this vigilant if it wasn’t for my son’s diagnosis. And even though my son is at greater risk for suicide than the average 16-year-old boy, I know I am on more heightened alert to the signs than the average parent. I have a better chance of preventing it. And for that, I am grateful.

I’m not suggesting that every parent of a teenager has to live at an orange threat level until adolescence has passed. But being a teenager now isn’t like it was when we were kids. Every generation has new pressures and expectations that the last can’t understand. What may appear to be just a bad day may be just that. But when a bad day turns into a bad week, self-isolating, and changes in eating habits, parents need to realize it could be something more serious. When a neighbor tells me off-handedly that her child spends all his time in his room lately, a siren goes off in my head. It’s a great opportunity to work on reducing stigma and sharing some information that the garden variety parent may not realize. And I’m glad I have the experience to reach out and share with other parents, no matter how I got it. I hope it prevents another morning on the train platform, waiting for a train that doesn’t come. 

Educating parents can make all the difference in the life of a teen with a mood disorder. You can help me and The Balanced Mind Foundation reach more parents by voting for The Balanced Mind Foundation to win a $250,000 grant from the Pepsi Refresh Challenge. Visit http://www.thebalancedmind.org/Pepsi to learn how you can help The Balanced Mind Foundation win the grant, starting November 1.