I have a Major Moral Delima

YOW! I got some hate mail for my post, I wasn’t prepared for that.
Basically the person blasted me for having a child when I already knew I had a mental illness.
They also called me “scum” and made some rude suggestions.
The moderator sent it to me instead of posting it so that I could accept or delete it.
I appreciate that. Thank you.

I am not making excuses, honestly, I did NOT know that my depression is hereditary.
I was sexually abused, molested, and raped from infancy to the age of 13 by multiple members of my family – THANK GOD my mom, dad, and brother were not involved – and my depression and self-abuse was explained away by the shrinks as being due to the childhood abuse.
If I had even suspected my depression would be passed down to my children, I would NOT have had any.
I hope you can understand that 29 years ago, no one believed Depression was hereditary.

As for getting my son help, he is almost 30 years old and he has a Bachelors Degree in PSYCHOLOGY.
He can run anyone around in circles and IF I took him to the local mental health facility for help, by the time it was all said and done, I’d be admitted and HE would be leaving for home.
He’s been accepted to the Masters Degree program at University of Texas and he is in the collegiate National Honor Society.
He is extremely smart and clever and manipulative and knows his way around the tests and other methods of diagnosing mental illness.

Thank you, EVERYONE, for your efforts to offer advice, support, or just an opinion.
Even the person who called me scum for having a child in the first place, you are entitled to your own opinion.

Rehab here is a joke.
I’ve already sent him once, when he was still a minor and i had a little control over him (legally).
They did nothing at all to help him.
They pretty much warehoused him and made him attend classes so that he would not get behind in school.
But they did not make him attend group counseling or individual counseling.
They didn’t even do art therapy.
They did not address his major depression and suicidal desires at such a young age.
They kept him until the insurance ran out, then discharged him with recommendations for anti-depressants.
NOW he REALLY has the upper hand – He is no longer a minor and has a Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology and has been accepted to the Masters program at the University of Texas in Austin.
He can run rings around the intake people here at the “psych ward” and by the time he is done, he will be driving home and they will be looking for me to admit.
I even enlisted the help of my psychiatrist friend, to try to get my son admitted to a hospital or convince him to go to counseling, but he could not convince my son of the merits of continuing to live.

But all of this is irrelevant now.
I found my son dead, in his bed, Monday 10-08-12.
He was 29 years, 129 days old.
Much too young to be dead at his own hand – especially since he did not have any physical diseases such as Cancer, HIV, or any other “painful, dying slowly with no cure in sight” reason to give up.

He gave up because he had been denied LOVE from another, a mate, a significant other, a spouse, a soulmate.
Even though he had family and friends that love him, he felt utterly alone and unloved because “Love” has alluded him – or tricked him – time and time again.
I can honestly say I understood his pain and hopelessness.
We were very close and he shared almost everything with me, including his pain over being alone, without a lover, at a time when most of his friends are married and having kids.
He had sex almost every night of the week, with a variety of women and young girls (over 18), even with some couples, but could not make a “connection”, a deep, meaningful relationship with someone who would love him, completely and honestly LOVE HIM for who he was on the inside as well as the outside.
The pain was almost palpable, tactile and it consumed him.

He was a poster on this site over the past several months, but I do not know what name he used.

If the ADMINISTRATORS can help me, I would GREATLY APPRECIATE IT.
Thank you.

Thank you Everyone, for your words of support, wisdom, bullshit, concern, or for your opinions.
I especially appreciate Dawg and Scar504 and NewDawnFades.
And you too Beckyj, Thank you.
The person who attacked me and told me I should die for giving birth to a child even though I have suffered from Major Depression since an early age, that was the “bullshit” I referred to.
Gratefully, the administrators allowed me to delete that one because it was such a vicious personal attack.
Everyone is entitled to their own thoughts on every subject under the sun.
But that person said that I was the Sum Total of all my son’s problems – EVERYTHING was MY fault, for “knowingly” passing my bad genes on to an innocent child.

In 1982, when I got pregnant with my son (at the age of 21), I did NOT know my mental illness could be inherited by my son.
My shrink and my therapists all thought it was the result of childhood torture and extreme physical, sexual, and emotional abuse.
My doctors DID NOT know my son might inherit my depression then either – or they didn’t tell me.
They DID tell me to avoid artificial sweetners, caffeine, tobacco (not a smoker), alcohol (not a drinker), and to QUIT taking my anti-depressants and my anti-psychotics (for night terrors), and to avoid recreational drugs (not a drug user).
I did everything I could to ensure that my fetus grew into a healthy baby, and that my baby was born healthy, and continued to grow up healthy.
But by the time my son was in grade school, his teachers were calling me, saying that he was talking about how he wanted to die because no one liked him and he was lonely.

NOW we know mental illness can be genetic.
If I had known that THEN, I would have been sterilized because I would NEVER want ANY child that I loved and cared for to go through what I have gone trough for over 40 years.
I would have adopted or gone childless.
Which I did anyway…. I adopted another son and took in many Foster children, and I loved and nurtured ALL of them just as if I had carried them in my womb and given birth to them.
I still hear from all of them, I am still close to all of them, except one of my “baby girls” who is now legally declared a missing person.
She was abducted from a parking lot in Austin and never seen or heard from again.
I pray every night that she either escaped or died a quick merciful death, too afraid to even imagine what some sick freak might be doing to her (or might have put her through before he killed her).
So I must be a pretty good mom?????
My son felt close enough and safe enough with me to tell me about his unending suffering and that he was going to leave me.
That’s something, huh?
I LOVE him with every bone in my body and every beat of my heart, and even though his actions have caused me more pain than all my 15 years of childhood abuse, somewhere deep in my heart I am consoled by the knowledge that he is not suffering any more.
I can’t admit that to anyone but you, because no one else will understand.
But my son is finally at peace.
My pain goes on, but at least my beloved son suffers no more.