As told to Nicole Audrey Spector
Grant is my eldest child, and he never gave us any reason to worry about him when he was a kid. He was so smart, so generous and so comfortable in his own skin. When he left home at 18 to study graphic design at Northeastern, my husband, John, and I were confident that he would do great. And for a while he did, but when he was around 20, it became clear that he was having a hard time.
John and I sensed that Grant was struggling with anxiety, and it made perfect sense that he would be. His work/study program was intense and competitive, and he’d just gone through a heartbreak. He’d headed off to school seeing the world in rose-colored glasses. Now, the harsh tones of reality were charging in.
The truth of how much he was struggling would become apparent on a family vacation to visit his sister, Symmi, in South Carolina. During the trip, Grant was seemingly in his own world and not very interested in spending time together as a family, which wasn’t like him. His anxiety was high and he was easily agitated.
Grant was normally very open with us, so seeing such a drastic change was scary. Even scarier was observing him smiling and laughing when nobody was around. We realized that he was going through something more serious than we or even he could comprehend. We began to ask ourselves, “What’s going on? Could this be mania?”
Soon after, Grant was back in school in Boston. It was March 2020. Covid was storming the U.S., and the world went on lockdown.
Two of his roommates called to let us know that Grant was saying bizarre things.
“He thinks that he can move the paint on his paintings with his energy,” the roommate said. “He’s standing in front of a painting moving his hands around, but we don’t see what he sees.”
2025, Jen (right) with Symmi and dog Chica, John and Grant (left to right)
The roommates also told us Grant was smoking weed numerous times a day. That was definitely new behavior. We figured he’d tried it, but now it was a daily habit. It was all shocking to hear.
How Covid operated and the extent of its symptoms were still almost completely unknown back then. I wondered, “Could Grant’s delusional behavior possibly be tied to Covid?” It made sense to ask questions like this particularly because Grant had, up until very recently, never shown any signs of delusions or psychosis.
John and I were very concerned, so we drove from Rhode Island to Boston. What we found there was Grant in the clutches of a manic episode. He was dancing around in euphoria and his thoughts were grandiose. He explained to us that he could teleport all over the world to help people in need and resurrect people from the dead. It was terrifying and heartbreaking.
It was clear he needed to be hospitalized.
Finding a hospital for Grant was not easy during Covid, but we were able to make it happen. Grant wound up staying on a psychiatric floor for a month. He stopped communicating with us, and the situation felt hopeless. During that time he thought he was being inhabited by great artists and inventors, like Picasso and Steve Jobs. He didn’t improve at all.
When Grant was released, it wasn’t because he was well or even diagnosed; it was because the doctors had given up on him. They sent him home saying he would do better with us. When we picked him up, a nurse who did not speak to us escorted him out of a back door while he was in psychosis. The whole experience was a devastating glimpse into just how incompetent our mental health care system can be.
After Grant was released, his mania continued. He ended up fleeing our care and going back to Boston, where he had a second month-long stay that ended in his being discharged by a commitment judge who deemed him “not a harm to himself or others.”
Grant wanted nothing to do with us and went to live with a friend. I tracked him by watching his credit card transactions. Every time I’d see that he made a purchase, my heart would calm for a moment. It was proof of life.
Though I often felt helpless, I never once lost my determination. I spent countless hours talking with mental health experts at the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), our local community health center and other families caring for family members with mental illness.
After a couple months in Boston, Grant decided to return to our home in Rhode Island, and John and I saw that he was still manic. He barely slept and was obviously reacting to internal voices. He had a hard time holding a conversation based in reality.
One day Grant said something vaguely threatening, and that was enough to warrant a wellness check that led to him being readmitted to the hospital.
The primary psychiatrist working with Grant was fantastic — nothing like what we’d dealt with before. He suggested we get a formal diagnosis in Boston. We did, and Grant was diagnosed with schizophrenia.
Outside of what I saw on TV and in movies, I knew basically nothing about the disease, and dedicated myself to learning about it and to building a team of support for Grant that included his psychiatrist, a therapist, a health and wellness coach, and a personal trainer. Additionally, I made sure Grant’s family and friends were keeping in touch with him. Community is so important.
I also invested in mental health support for me, John and Symmi. I would not allow our family to be weakened or torn apart by this.
2024, Grant’s Northeastern graduation party.
Grant’s psychiatrist put Grant on a powerful yet not often used atypical antipsychotic that is used to treat severe symptoms of schizophrenia. It was a game changer. Over time, Grant became less delusional and we started to get our son back. He was eating, sleeping and exercising as well as connecting with friends. He graduated from Northeastern and began selling his art work and working part time.
Today, Grant is doing amazing. His life may not look exactly like what he had planned, but he’s thriving. He works, paints, produces music and has passion, purpose and a strong support network made of family, friends and professionals.
2025, Jen hiking in Italy
We keep stress to a minimum (routines are very important to Grant). People who meet him now without knowing his backstory would never know he lives with schizophrenia. He is in meaningful recovery.
As for me and the rest of the family, we’re doing great too. We’re all a part of #TeamGrant, and we’re as close and strong as ever.
There are still days when it all feels overwhelming, but I feel at peace knowing that my hard work to get Grant help is paying off. My son is living a purposeful and creative life and adding so much to his own community. That was an important place for me to help him get to so that I could feel comfortable living my own life again.
It’s important that other caregivers for people living with serious illnesses like schizophrenia advocate for their loved one while also taking care of themselves. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. And know that this is a marathon, not a sprint. You can have light and joy in your life again as long as you make the most of your community — and remember to find time to laugh and love.
Resources
Schizophrenia & Psychosis Action Alliance (S&PAA)
This educational resource was created with support from Bristol Myers Squibb, a HealthyWomen Corporate Advisory Council member.
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