My decision to start a fund for Sean was a spontaneous one, done while I still had the covers over my head. When I did it though, I opened Pandora's Box, as this was a very private part of Sean's life. Why did I do it? I'm not really sure. Sometimes I think it was my ego. I wanted him to stay alive…he was too special for his family and the world to lose so soon. I wanted to use Sean's gifts of celebrity and kindness to prevent such hurt from affecting anyone else in this world. It would be what Sean would do if he could. Ultimately, I wanted his life to have continued meaning.The impact of revealing his challenges were an unknown to me, and could have resulted in comments that would be difficult for me to hear, or might negatively influence Sean's reputation. I underestimated the guidance of my heart, or God or the Universe, whatever is the source of positive inspiration. What has emerged from this endeavor simply validates its inception. So many people have come forward to tell of their experience with Bipolar Disorder. Most of them are complete strangers, but you can hear the sadness in the telling of their own, or the struggles of someone they love or loved. Some of them are family members, who, if I had only known, could have had their history used the information to help Sean in his quest for solutions and diagnosis.What is Bipolar Disorder?Bipolar Disorder manifests itself differently in different people, and there are two distinct categories, one where the person is more obviously "manic" and the other, where the person is primarily depressive with hypo manic episodes. Given Sean's temperament and choice of profession, it is not hard to imagine which category he fell into. The sad thing is that according to statistics, it takes an average of 10 years to accurately diagnose, and during that time, the person affected tries to feel better however they can. Antidepressants don't work, and can often worsen the symptoms. If symptoms start during adolescence, it is difficult to discern whether the teen has normal teen angst or has a true mood disorder. During this gap, the family and the person affected ride a tumultuous roller coaster, all the while trying to find a way off.To complicate the matter, there is a shortage of child psychiatrists according to the National Institute of Mental Health and not enough research being done to determine causes and evaluation for early detection. These two are inseparable, for the longer the symptoms, the greater the chance for self-medication, which only worsens outcomes.One person who wrote of their own trials, called this a "silent illness." There is no better description. People are not usually willing to admit that they don't feel the same as everyone else, and the upswing of the disorder fools even the person who is affected. Families are not willing to expose their loved one's mood swings, both to protect the affected and to avoid feeling different themselves. I cannot tell you how many people have come forward to tell me that they are exhausted from trying to help and support their child or husband, and there seems to be nowhere for them to turn. Add to this a public persona, and silence is common.Sean is the perfect example of all of these things. As a child, Sean was the opposite of manic; he was down right mellow. He was a gifted student, but was quiet and reserved. It was his sense of humor that revealed his intelligence, and his ability to get into character. When he was in 3rd grade, he came home and told me he was trying out for a part in a play, and he was very excited. I asked him what the part was, and he said "I don't know, but he says 'I have a dream'." He was very blonde and small at the time, so I told him not to be disappointed if he didn't get the part. Well, he did, and to my surprise, brought the house down even when they took it to the local high school. Both his school and the high school were very racially mixed, and so the reception was very telling of things to come. In class, however, he rarely spoke up and had trouble looking someone in the eye, he was so shy. He did not misbehave. He was as sweet as can be, and, except for exceptionally bad handwriting was an A student. (Funny, this was diagnosed as poor motor coordination! The hand writing never improved, but the hand coordination certainly did.) Although there was no trace of any visible issues, as his Mother, I knew he was extremely sensitive and, at times, fragile and easily disheartened…the guitar got thrown down more than once.Sean's shyness continued until he found his guitar. This was his entree into the world of acceptance as a pre-teen, and he was seldom without it. It was a shield, a sort of costume that allowed him to feel like he belonged. Don't get me wrong, kids loved Sean. He just didn't know it. He was normal in every way: he teased his sister; never picked up his stuff; hated to do homework; had a ton of kids that would knock for him, etc. But, his sadness often came out only to me and when he wasn't busy. It's no surprise that he played the blues. He could look at someone and feel their pain. He was particularly protective of the plight of the African American and their suffering through slavery. Later, having become fluent in Spanish, I found out that he was taking kids who could only speak Spanish for job interviews. (In fact, at the cemetery, a Hispanic woman came to both me and his sister with a card with money in it. She said that Sean had been in school with her son, and she wanted to pay her respects…this was over 10 years later.) He once asked me: "Mom, why can't I be something cool like Black or Hispanic?" I knew at that moment, that I would never be cool.In high school, he was in Seventeen Magazine, won the Louis Armstrong Award and was voted best dressed. He had maintained an academic course load with AP classes, while missing about 30 days a year as he toured, mostly to Memphis I tried to get him to slow down, but he told me he had to play the guitar, and other classes were too boring. All of this time, he still struggled with social anxiety, another thing strongly linked to Bipolar Disorder.You look at Sean and see handsome, talented, gifted, intelligent, generous and sweet. How could there ever be a problem? Well, there was. One he fought to overcome everyday. Lack of self-esteem, social awkwardness and sleep problems were something he lived with until the day he died. Imagine that force on stage in conflict with the awkwardness he felt. The discrepancy in conjunction with the touring, the late nights and the stress of managing a band for more than 12 years took their toll. Nonetheless, those of us who knew him knew he would never give up voluntarily. Never. He was a fighter and he loved too many. However, it is possible that, as his wonderful girlfriend said: "He didn't leave us. His body left him."Sean was considered by many to be a musical prodigy, if not genius, a grouping who, along with artists, are stereotypically bipolar. The medicines which typically help Bipolar Disorder (BPD), however, often leave a person feeling disoriented, tired, like walking "through butterscotch" as Sean said. This is not compatible with performing or creative endeavors, and, as a result, are not acceptable to the artist, certainly not one who performed with Sean's passion and energy.Unfortunately. the sad fact is that many musicians do not have health insurance. Sean did. Most musicians don't make enough money to be the breadwinner. This was intermittent for Sean, but he had a family that could help, although he hated to ask. This gives this population the highest probability of emotional lability with the least ability to afford care.I have often had people ask me how it felt to have such a gifted child. I could not answer honestly, because what I felt most often was concern and compassion for what it took from him to do what he loved. We go to see bands play and what they have to do to get on the stage is invisible to us. They may have traveled for days (Sean's last tour went from South Florida to Vancouver, to San Diego and home, with no paying gig after Vegas), eaten crappy food and spent more .. phone calls and gas than they make. Their partners are left home with children and household responsibilities, often with the main job for income and benefits. We don't want to know that. We want their music for free and their lives on display. They make us feel so much better and ask little in return except maybe attention and maybe applause (tough in a sports bar). Sean was too timid to sell t-shirts!The odds are stacked against making a living in music, never mind making it big. But, imagine the world without music. Where the passion of a performer is able to connect a crowd full of strangers in a smile or dance. This is a world with no rest for the mind or sustenance for the soul. What else produces a smile, laugh or cry whenever we need and choose to listen? And for the cost of a CD?I love Sean more than words could ever convey. He was my first and only son and the light of our lives. We knew him as a son, brother and uncle, and music never accompanied our visits. We just loved him for him. I knew what it took from Sean to play, and yet, I also knew he had no choice. It was his destiny. A young death did not have to be, and should never be for anyone else.For all of these reasons, I ask you to become more familiar with BPD. I ask you to support this cause in Sean's name. Equally importantly, I ask you to continue to listen to Sean's music. It's little recompense for a young man who loved his music, his family, friends and fans and gave them everything without hesitation.