Teen Mental Health: Second & Third Hospitalizations
When it comes to navigating the challenges of teen mental health, there are no easy answers, no quick fixes, and no guidebook to help you through it. My child, Ryan, had already been through one hospitalization for suicidal ideation, and for a time, things seemed to be improving. But life, as I’ve learned, doesn’t follow a straight path, especially when mental health struggles are involved.
This is the story of Ryan’s second and third back to back mental health hospitalizations—a journey marked by heartbreak, resilience, and my unwavering love as a parent determined to see their child survive. This is a continuation of my story, Suicidal Ideation Hospitalization.
Over the course of Ryan’s mental health struggles, I learned hard truths about resilience, support, and the importance of being present—even when the pain feels unbearable. Ryan’s strength and honesty throughout this journey were nothing short of inspiring.
A Year of Hope Followed by the Collapse
After Ryan’s first hospitalization, things seemed to be looking up. Medication and consistent therapy appeared to be working, and Ryan was doing well—or so I thought.
What I didn’t realize was that Ryan had stopped taking their medication nearly two months earlier. They didn’t share the depths of their struggles, and I didn’t ask the right questions. Then, the walls came crashing down.
Ryan overdosed and self-harmed by cut their legs with hundreds of tiny cuts. The reality of what was happening hit me like a freight train. The scene is etched into my memory—a horrifying reminder of how deep their pain ran. How did we get here? Why didn’t they talk to me about the darkness consuming them? And most agonizingly, how could I fix this?
With no other option, we headed back to VCU Medical Center’s emergency room. Ryan didn’t want to feel this way, but their mind was working against them. They agreed to go to the hospital because, deep down, I think they wanted to survive and they were scared.
Back to the Emergency Room
Once again, we found ourselves in the emergency room. It was our only option to keep Ryan safe, and thankfully, Ryan agreed to go. They didn’t want to feel this way; their mind was working against them, and it wasn’t fair.
This time, everything felt even more intense. Ryan had made a serious suicide attempt, and the hospital’s response reflected the gravity of the situation. A staff member was posted outside our room 24/7, ensuring Ryan was never alone. Every potentially dangerous item was removed from the room. The curtain had to remain open at all times so there was always a line of sight on Ryan even though I was in the room too. Bathroom visits were escorted. Anything that could potentially be used for self-harm—the TV remote, wires behind the bed—was removed. The sterile room became even more sterile.
As we waited…and waited…and waited more, Ryan had to recount their story over and over again to every doctor, nurse, and therapist who entered the room. It was exhausting—for them and for me. But what struck me was Ryan’s raw honesty. Despite their pain, they were able to speak about their struggles in a matter-of-fact way. Their courage to be vulnerable and truthful in such a dark moment filled me with an overwhelming sense of pride, even amidst the heartache.
The Return to VTCC
The hospital’s recommendation was obvious: Ryan needed to return to the Virginia Treatment Center for Children (VTCC). This time, we weren’t so fortunate and had to wait in the ER for 23 hours to secure a bed at VTCC. But, it felt like a small victory that we were able to go back to VTCC and not another facility.
The stay at VTCC lasted three weeks. During that time, I learned even more painful truths about my teen’s mental health struggles. Ryan confessed to suicide attempts I hadn’t known about, months of self-harm hidden under clothing, and an ongoing struggle with purging meals. It was almost too much to bear, but through it all, Ryan remained honest and forthcoming with their therapists, social workers, and doctors.
Ryan wasn’t bouncing back like they did after the first mental health hospitalization. Medications were adjusted and that takes time. But time wasn’t helping either. Ryan couldn’t stabilize or commit to a safety plan, but I applaud the rawness and honesty my teen displayed. There were so many ups and downs during this three week stay at VTCC. That’s not the “typical” length of stay, but nothing about Ryan’s mental health journey has been typical.
Their willingness to open up, even in their darkest moments, was remarkable. But it was clear that Ryan was still mentally struggling like never before. There was a darkness surrounding them that I couldn’t penetrate. They didn’t smile or hold their head up much. It was as if they had given up on life entirely.
Visits Filled with Heartache
Visiting Ryan became a routine. I juggled visits around my work schedule, doing my best to be there for them. Each visit began with the same process: handing over my ID, securing my belongings in a locker, and waiting for clearance from staff and Ryan to proceed. Then came the long walks through secure hallways, past locked doors, until I reached Ryan’s pod.
Teen Mental Health…Next Steps
As Ryan began to feel they could remain safe and follow a safety plan it was still evident that they still weren’t ready to come home. The recommendation was to return to St. Joseph’s Crisis Stabilization Unit, a step meant to provide more therapy for their recovery. However, after just one day, Ryan couldn’t maintain safety there. They needed more intensive care, so we back to VCU’s emergency room for the third time. The process started all over again. The waiting was excruciating, and this time it took 14 hours to find an available bed at VTCC. I was so grateful, again, that we were able to stay local. It’s the small things sometimes.
Back to VTCC for a Third Time
Once admitted, Ryan remained at VTCC for an additional two weeks. Each day was a rollercoaster of emotions, progress, and setbacks. But through it all, Ryan continued to demonstrate the courage to keep trying, even when the fight felt impossible.
Time to Come Home
When it was finally time for Ryan to come home, the transition was approached with meticulous care and preparation.
First, I had to prepare our home which meant removing all sharps, knives, strings, wires, scissors, sewing supplies, cleaning supplies, medications, and pet medications removed from the house or securely locking them out of sight. That alone was a huge chore.
Ryan’s social worker at VTCC recommended we reach out to Henrico County Mental Health and Development Services for additional outpatient resources. They had a list of incredible programs that I have never heard of. Virtual Residential, Intensive In-home, mentoring, autism testing, case management, crisis intervention. Over the next three years we tried them all.
With the support of VTCC and Henrico County Mental Health and Development Services, we created a comprehensive safety plan designed to give Ryan the best chance at maintaining safety at home.
This plan included enrollment in Virtual Residential Services, an intensive program that provided up to 40 hours of in-home mental health support each week. In addition, Ryan continued outpatient therapy, medication management, and homebound studies to ensure their emotional, physical, and educational needs were met.
For six months, Ryan worked hard to maintain their safety. Each day was a testament to their resilience and determination. It wasn’t an easy victory—it was hard-fought and deeply emotional—but it was a victory, nonetheless. Still, the journey was far from over.
Reflection
Looking back, I’m in awe of Ryan’s courage. Despite their pain, they never stopped trying to fight for survival. Their willingness to be honest about their mental health struggles and their commitment to working with their care team showed a strength I will forever admire.
As a parent, this journey has been a constant reminder that recovery is not linear. There are setbacks, moments of doubt, and days when it feels impossible. But through it all, one thing remains true: life is worth fighting for.
A Message to Other Parents
If you’re a parent navigating the challenges of teen mental health and suicide prevention, know that you are not alone. Lean on your community, seek out resources, and never stop fighting for your child.
Ryan’s story is a testament to the power of resilience, the importance of support, and the belief that even in the darkest times, there is hope.
Together, we can fight for tomorrow.
Final Thoughts
If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health issues or is in crisis, please reach out to the suicide prevention hotline at 988. Help is available 24/7 via phone, chat, or text.
