Joshua was 20 years old when he died. Our son, Noah, was barely 8 weeks old. Joshua deliberately drove our car in to a tree during an episode of psuchosis. He spent 13 days in a coma, before his heart failed and we had to let him go. Even before i met Joshua, he had battled mental illness. He had made several attempts to end his life, and used marijuana to numb the pain. 

Joshua's parents split when he was only little, and his step dad was physically and verbally abusive. Joshua's mother kicked him out when he was 15, and he was homeless for a long time. He had so many deep seeded issues that I am not surprised he was depressed. 

The last 12 months of Joshua's life were by far the hardest for both of us. Mental illness was slowly starting to take over Joshua's body. It invaded his mind and he became incredibly paranoid. He was convinced that everybody, including his counsellor, was out to get him. 

On the night before he took off in our car, he had me huddled in the lounge room, holding our brand new baby, because he was adamant people were about to storm in to the house and kill him. It was terrifying and heartbreaking to witness his psychotic episode. I never could have imagined that would be our last night together as a family. 

Joshua was profoundly unwell, and i knew how badly he wanted to live. He fought so hard, but he just wanted the pain to stop. I hate to admit this, but when he passed away it was a relief. Because he was finally at peace. He was no longer being tormented by his demons, and he was finally free of all of the hurt and the painful memories. 

This year, in October, will be 5 years since Joshua passed away. I miss him, every single day. 

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