This is progress. It doesn't seem like it to the average onlooker, but he didn't hurt himself, he just reached out to me and said, "I can't do it, just not anymore."
He told me he didn't want help, but he reached out to me. He said, "I don't wanna start over. I just wanna finish," yet, he reached out, listened, and drove himself to the hospital for help.
Progress is measured in many different ways. My son wrote this is his journal a few years ago, "A state of depression envelopes over and it feels as though all progress is lost. Although, I realize that progress is measured by my ability to cope. And therefore my progress grows."
His progress is growing everyday. He is only nineteen, he is so young and has only experienced a small portion of life. He thinks he can never get better, yet he is already better than he was a year ago.
Mental health is complicated. One step forward can result in ten steps back, or one step forward can just be one step forward.