Sometimes They Don’t Make It
The Grief No One Prepares You for in Mental Health Work
No one tells you exactly how to deal with this.
People often ask why I chose to work in mental health. The answer is simple:
I’ve been through the fire. My family has been through the fire. And we made it to the other side. Now I want to walk with others as they move through their own.
Only sometimes… they stay in the fire.
Sometimes they burn.
And all you can do is watch.
Encourage.
Hope they keep walking toward the light.
And sometimes, they don’t make it.
I got hit hard last week.
A call came during a short break between clients. A call telling me that a 17-year-old client I worked with for most of last year had died.
Seventeen.
I wasn’t ready for this.
I wasn’t ready for the rush of emotion.
I wasn’t ready for the familiar grief flooding back.
I thought about his parents.
How easily that could have been me.
The last time we spoke, he was doing so much better. He was using his resources. He was showing up. He was doing the work.
That was only last June.
What changed in the last six months?
Does it even matter now?
He is gone.
I remember taking him thrifting — it was his thing. Something we shared. He schooled me on Starbucks orders and travel dreams.
This kid had so much going for him. Two loving parents. A supportive family. Access to care. Opportunity.
And still… it wasn’t enough.
I feel angry and grateful at the same time.
Grateful my own son didn’t make that choice.
Grateful I never got the knock on the door.
My heart is heavy.
And yet — this is why I do this work. Not because I can save everyone. But because presence still matters. Love still matters. Walking alongside someone still matters, even when the ending breaks your heart.
Today I will write a letter to his dads and offer my condolences — with the aching awareness that this could have been my story too.
Goodbye, sweet boy.
Every time I walk into a thrift store, I will think of you.
