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“If I don’t change, my life will not get better.”
Those were my son Daniel’s words—an aha moment of clarity, the springboard for hope and change for those fighting addiction.
Daniel battled anxiety, addiction, and alcohol—and ultimately, alcohol prevailed.
Daniel Ryan Watkins
May 15, 1985 – February 18, 2022
Portrait of Daniel Watkins painted by his friend Steve Pryce, an art teacher, and used at Watkins’ funeral service. | Photo provided by Tom Watkins
His death created a vacuum in my heart and soul.
Grief rushed in to fill it.
This is painful to write. It conjures the joyful moment when this precious little boy came into our lives—and how, over time, we watched that joy slip away, replaced by anxiety and alcohol addiction.
Addiction and mental illness are real. So is recovery—through introspection, diagnosis, treatment, and support.
No, people battling these brain diseases cannot simply “stop” and get over it.
Addiction will kill you. And it will rip the heart and soul from those who love you, as parents, family, and friends struggle to provide encouragement for treatment—along with love and support—while trying not to feed the fire of addiction.
I love my son. Even when I was angry and sad about some of his behaviors and choices.
I—his mother—and his friends all tried to support his sobriety. In the end, perhaps we wanted it more for him than he wanted it for himself.
Yes, I second-guessed my parenting—how I let my son down, how I disappointed him—while intellectually and professionally knowing that alcoholism is a disease, and the disease is not me.
Be clear: addiction and mental health issues skip no ZIP code. They do not care about titles, economic status, professional degrees, or the power one thinks they possess.
SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE
Few families escape the horrors of trying to secure the help, care, and support needed on the long road to recovery for someone they love.
The national tragedy—the alleged murder of actor and producer Rob Reiner’s parents, Michele and Carl Reiner, by their son who reportedly battled mental illness and addiction since adolescence—brought this pain flooding back.
If you are shaking your head thinking, “Not me,” don’t be so sure. Just wait.
The news is devastating. You soon realize how helpless you are unless—and until—your loved one chooses recovery and sobriety. And even then, that choice is only one moment, one day at a time.
Alcohol—and stigma—kill
Michigan’s rate of alcohol-related deaths is slightly higher than the national average.
In 2023, alcohol-involved traffic crashes resulted in 297 fatalities. The annual per capita death rate from excessive alcohol use in Michigan increased by more than 40 percent between 2015 and 2019. An average of 4,548 deaths each year in Michigan are attributable to excessive alcohol use.
Nationally, more than 178,000 deaths—approximately 120,000 men and 59,000 women—are attributed to excessive alcohol use.
A tremendous loss of love and life.
I still feel a tinge of shame and stigma when admitting this painful family truth. That stigma—yes, it is there—hurts as well.
Stigma remains a major barrier to people getting the behavioral health care and support they need.
I have spent years working in the behavioral health field, serving as Michigan’s state mental health director under former Governor James Blanchard, and as president and CEO of the Detroit Wayne Integrated Health Network.
I know better.
And yet, I admit the fear, embarrassment, shame, and judgment still cling to me like cheap cigar smoke in a darkened bar. We must defeat stigma if we are to give people a real chance at life.
Personally and professionally, I have witnessed the joy that comes when individuals are ready for help and the health care system is there to meet them. I have also felt deep pain watching disease prevent people from accessing help—or worse, when a bureaucratic and underfunded system failed them.
We can—and must—do better.
Today, my grief comes in waves: disbelief and denial, anger and guilt, moments of comfort, and the search for ways to move forward—not on— as I gradually adjust to and accept this profound loss.
The sadness slowly evaporates, though despair still lingers beneath the surface, replaced more often now by memories of love, acceptance, forgiveness, and gratitude for the time Daniel and I had—rather than the time we did not.
As a society, we must do better.
We must educate people that help is available, provide resources to strengthen chronically underfunded public mental health systems, and eradicate the stigma that prevents people from seeking help.
I owe my ongoing recovery from this tragic loss to three invaluable community resources:
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Growth Works, supporting individuals and families navigating substance use treatment
https://gwcares.org/ -
National Alliance on Mental Illness – Michigan (NAMI-MI), the largest grassroots mental health organization dedicated to improving the lives of people living with serious mental illness and their families
https://namimi.org/
Help is available. You can always begin by calling 988, the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline, available 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
These organizations are saving lives and are worthy of our community’s support.
With support, recovery is possible.
