The first time I ever wrote about the boy I decided to call "Benjy" was in 2009, I think. He was still so little, and already sad.
What happened was this. It took months and months of writing, and months more of editing. It took a while to find it the right home. So many earnest apologies from editors who loved it but did not quite know what to do with it.
Then I discovered the journal I should have tried first: Literary Mama. And I found "Benjy, Awake," the perfect home.
It's getting a lot of Twitter and Facebook love. (Don't get excited, Readers. It's all relative. But if you want to help it go viral I won't stand in your way. This is the kind of stuff people need to talk about -- when they're done discussing any pressing Kardashian updates.)
So, yeah. Share our story. Get people talking about the social, political, and very personal issue that is childhood mental illness. And then go drink a vanilla soy latte and enjoy my virtual hug.