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Leaving the Hall Light On: A Mother's Memoir of Living with Her Son's Bipolar Disorder and Surviving His Suicide
$32.20
Hardcover
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BOOK DETAILS

  • Hardcover
  • May.08.2011
  • 9780984631728
$14.95
Paperback
See Book Details »

BOOK DETAILS

  • Paperback
  • May.08.2011
  • 9780982579480

Madeline gives an overview of the book:

UPDATE: Dream of Things is releasing a paperback edition of Leaving the Hall Light On on August 6th, 2012. Leaving the Hall Light On combines memoir with an uplifting story of grief recovery, resilience, and survival. Leaving the Hall Light On charts the near-destruction of one middle-class family whose son committed suicide after a seven-year struggle with bipolar disorder. Madeline Sharples, author, poet and web journalist, goes deep into her own well of grief to describe her anger, frustration and guilt. She describes many attempts – some successful, some not – to have her son committed to hospital and to keep him on his medication. The book also charts her and her family’s redemption, how she considered suicide herself, and ultimately, her decision to live and take care of herself as a woman, wife, mother and writer.  “A moving read of tragedy, trying to...
Read full overview »

UPDATE: Dream of Things is releasing a paperback edition of Leaving the Hall Light On on August 6th, 2012.

Leaving the Hall Light On combines memoir with an uplifting story of grief recovery, resilience, and survival.

Leaving the Hall Light On charts the near-destruction of one middle-class family whose son committed suicide after a seven-year struggle with bipolar disorder.

Madeline Sharples, author, poet and web journalist, goes deep into her own well of grief to describe her anger, frustration and guilt. She describes many attempts – some successful, some not – to have her son committed to hospital and to keep him on his medication. The book also charts her and her family’s redemption, how she considered suicide herself, and ultimately, her decision to live and take care of herself as a woman, wife, mother and writer.

 “A moving read of tragedy, trying to prevent it, and coping with life after.” – Midwest Book Review

“Moving, intimate and very inspiring.” – Mark Shelmerdine, CEO, Jeffers Press

“Poetically visceral, emotionally honest. I will be a better, more empathic psychiatrist, and a better person and friend after reading this extraordinary memoir.” – Irvin D. Godofsky, M.D.

“I recommend this book to suicide survivors and to mental health professionals. Madeline Sharples is much more honest about what it is like to survive suicide than most patients and clients allow themselves to be.” – Fran Edstrom, American Association of Suicidology 

 “I recommend this book to those who lost a child or who struggle with the mental illness of a child, and to anyone at all who wants a deep, intimate read where the author bares her soul and lets you into her world!” – Bonni Rubenstein, Organizer of Facebook group, Loss of an Adult or Young Adult Child 

 

Read an excerpt »

Lunch                                                            

I sit by the window at a corner table in a macrobiotic restaurant on Santa Monica Boulevard. The room, filled with small wooden tables and straight-back chairs, is almost empty. A couple of people are eating at the counter at the far side. Plates of breads and muffins are on a ledge above the counter. A sign above the counter says no dairy and white flour are used in any of the bakery products. I smell the herbs and the heavy aroma of Indian spices in the soup pot heating behind the take-out counter.

I look toward the window and see Linda crossing the street. I check my watch: 11:50. I've only had to wait five minutes - not bad for her. I haven't seen her in at least eight months - not since before Paul died.

I'm apprehensive. This is one of my first lunch dates in such a long time. It is still hard for me to venture far from home and socialize. I'm not even sure I can still carry on a decent conversation. Crowds really bother me, though the vibes here, the sound of quiet instrumental music are soothing. Maybe today will be okay. Maybe this healthy place will be good for me. And I've looked forward to seeing Linda for so long.

She enters the restaurant, spots me immediately, and rushes over to our table. I get up and we hug, giving each other an air kiss. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting," she says as she sits down across from me.

I fold the menu and set it down on the table in front of me. "That's okay," I say. "It's great to see you finally. I know how hard you've worked at getting us together."

"Yeah, you're a hard one to pin down." She puts on her reading glasses and picks up the menu. "Do you see anything here that you like?"

She's right. I have been hard to pin down. I want to avoid these social things where I have to sit and talk and make an attempt to eat.

I pick up the menu again and pretend. I'm good at pretending. "Oh, yes. You chose a great place. I'm not a total vegetarian like you, but I love this kind of food." I look back down and study the menu a bit more. There are lots of salads and soups to choose from, but I'm drawn to the bowls. "I think I'll have the brown rice and veggies with tahini sauce," I say. Maybe that will stick. I've had a very hard time keeping food in me - especial dairy products - I hope this food might work for me.

She looks up, takes off her glasses, and closes her menu. "That's my favorite thing here. I'll have that too."

I look out the window at a car swerving to get out of the way of a jaywalker.

"I used to go to Hi De Ho Comics across the street to buy my son Ben his Garbage Pail Kid cards," I tell her, making every effort to keep the conversation light. After all, this is a girl's lunch - with lots of chit-chat and gossip expected. "They were his passion when he was twelve, and like a good Mommy I would drive all the way up here to find him the ones he couldn't find in the South Bay."

She looks at me like I'm talking in Chinese. "Garbage Pail Kids? Are those anything like the Pokémon cards that are so popular now?"

"How do you know about those?" One of Paul's last social interactions was with a young boy who came over to visit us with his parents. Paul had never seen Pokemon cards before, and the boy gave him a couple. I found them in his wallet when I went through his things after he died.

"The kid next door collects them. He showed me his album and gave me one of his extras."

"Well, the Garbage Pail cards were really sick. Definitely not my type of humor

madeline-sharples's picture

If my book helps other parents cope with a mentally ill child and offers hope to parents who have had a child die that it is possible to live a full and productive life afterward, I'll feel it is a success.

About Madeline

I have worked most of my professional life as a technical writer and editor, grant writer, and now as a proposal manager, managing the proposal development process and turning engineering "writing" into readable prose.  I co-authored a book about women in nontraditional...

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