Launched in 2013, the harris project is a nonprofit dedicated to the prevention and treatment of co-occurring disorders (COD) — the combination of mental health challenges and substance use issues. Us Weekly has partnered with the harris project to bring you The Missing Issue, a special edition focusing on the stories of those who’ve struggled with COD. Here, we’ve put the spotlight on everyday people and their families impacted.
Wendy S., Jupiter, Florida
I never imagined the depths of my son Jon Michael’s struggles. He was athletic, popular, successful in school, and a supportive friend and brother. But beneath the surface, he battled an anxiety disorder that few could see.
From an early age, the signs were there — his stutter wasn’t just physical; it was tied to overwhelming anxiety. He was loved by everyone, admired by teachers and friends, yet he felt completely alone. He didn’t understand why others could laugh and connect so easily while his mind raced nonstop. He struggled to sit still, to focus, to feel at ease. And no one truly understood how hard it was for him.
Some days, I’d be in the car with him, and his uniform would be soaked in sweat from anxiety. He’d look at me and say, “It’s happening again.” But to the outside world, he seemed calm. To cope, he turned to substances — not to party, but to manage the relentless anxiety. What started as relief became a need. He wasn’t experimenting; he was self-medicating just to get through the day. Even while excelling in sports, he was using.
Jon Michael died by accidental overdose. As a parent, you don’t know what you don’t know. That’s why it’s so important to talk about co-occurring disorders — because when mental health struggles aren’t properly addressed, substances can feel like the only way to cope.
Rebecca R., Phoenix, Arizona
Over a decade inside treatment facilities has taught me one thing — we continue to get it very, very wrong. At 19, I entered the mental health system seeking stabilization after a highly visible crisis, exacerbated by substance use. In the years that followed, I cycled through psychiatric hospitals, detox, outpatient programs, private therapy, inpatient treatment, partial hospitalization, and mutual aid groups across Arizona, Illinois, and New Mexico. Despite encountering many well-intentioned clinicians, no program was equipped to treat the totality of my symptoms.
I was misdiagnosed repeatedly. I was told that fixing my substance use would resolve my mental health struggles — or vice versa. I was told that if I truly wanted to get better, I would. I remained chronically suicidal, lost, and confused for nearly a decade after I stopped using. Had even one program delivered competent, integrated care, I would have recovered much sooner.
Later, I worked inside the system, selling and training others to sell treatment programs never designed to fully assess or understand patients’ needs. I saw the gaps. I felt ashamed. I left, determined to contribute with integrity. Finding your way out is hard. The system should not make it harder.
Today, I live a life free from problematic substance use and free from the debilitating mental health symptoms I have experienced since childhood. We must do better. People we know and love are lost, suffering, and dying. People we don’t know, but who deserve our love and care just the same, are lost, suffering, and dying. Great solutions and a reimagined system of care exists. There are ways to prove what works. Are we ready to listen/act/adopt actual solutions?
Amy B., Niantic, Connecticut
My son Mason was a creative thinker and brilliant programmer. At 15, he taught himself to code, and a year later, he had developed a weather app that earned him over $1 million. His entrepreneurial drive could have taken him far.
But Mason also struggled. Diagnosed with ADD in second grade, he was an anxious child, and as a teen, the pressures of school and social media weighed on him. His mental health struggles went largely untreated, and he began using drugs and alcohol to cope.
On Mother’s Day 2016, Mason overdosed on synthetic drugs from the Dark Web. EMTs revived him, but the overdose left him with a traumatic brain injury. He spent nearly five years in hospitals before passing away at 23.
After his death, I began advocating for integrated mental health and addiction treatment—what Mason so desperately needed. No family should endure what we did.
Gerriann T., Bucks County, Pennsylvania
My son, James Daniel Celli IV, died from an accidental overdose on December 14, 2020. He was 29 years old.
Jimmy was diagnosed with anxiety and ADHD. He had a genetic predisposition to addiction that was never meaningfully addressed. His story is one of co-occurring disorders and a system that failed him—one that should have saved him.
I lost count of how many rehab stays he had. Each one was the same—detox, a few weeks of 12-step programming. “Mom, I’ll go back. But 12-step doesn’t work for me.” Those words will haunt me forever.
For a time, he found happiness. He met a young woman, learned a trade, and was present for his younger brother, who has autism. Their bond was beautiful.
Then, in December 2018, his father died suddenly. Jimmy, never given the right treatment for his co-occurring disorders, was shattered. He spiraled, but he fought, attending rehab eight times. I thought, just once, he was finally getting appropriate help. But relapse was inevitable. Jimmy died two years to the day after burying his father.
Jimmy wanted to live. He fought so hard. My regrets are endless. We must do better. Every life lost is someone’s child. Someone’s brother. We miss him every single day.
Admiral Winnefeld, Coronado, California
Ours was a military family — service was a way of life. As a Navy admiral and Vice Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, I dedicated my career to it, and my wife, Mary, became a strong advocate for military families. Our oldest extended this tradition through his service as a Marine Corps officer.
However, our youngest son Jonathan struggled with the turbulent life of a military family, and as he grew into adolescence developed anxiety and depression and turned to substance use to cope. Even with our family’s love and support, his challenges persisted, leading him to inpatient rehabilitation. While in treatment he found his own sense of purpose and service in becoming an Emergency Medical Technician. During his training he helped save a man experiencing a drug overdose, which heightened his desire to help those who cannot help themselves. Emerging from treatment he was ready for a fresh start in college. But only three days after we dropped him off, this amazing young man became a victim of the drug’s gravitational pull, perishing from an accidental overdose of fentanyl-laced heroin when it was offered to him while walking on the streets of downtown Denver.
After Jonathan’s passing, Mary and I knew our commitment to service had to take on new meaning. In 2017, we founded SAFE Project, a nonprofit organization dedicated to saving lives by providing substance use prevention education, mental health resources, recovery program development, and community support. We wanted to breathe life into the desire to help others Jonathan developed during his treatment journey. More recently, we have widened our umbrella of support to include families and individuals navigating co-occurring disorders.
Aarushi G., Leander, Texas
I came across co-occurring disorders by accident. While researching mental health for a school project, I stumbled upon the harris project. Reading about their mission resonated deeply with me, especially as I reflected on the students in my own school district. Seeing my own classmates struggle impacted me greatly and helped me see how important it was to ensure that young people have access to the education and support necessary to navigate the challenges around co-occurring disorders.
Throughout my efforts to raise awareness, I encountered a common response: hesitation. Many shied away from conversations about co-occurring disorders, finding the topic too sensitive or uncomfortable. Some dismissed the need for discussion, fearing the words “mental health” and “substance use” might make the wrong impression. But this stigma — the reluctance to speak openly—is exactly what prevents meaningful progress.
Co-occurring disorders won’t disappear just because people avoid talking about it. If I could offer one piece of advice to the family or friends of someone struggling, it would be this: don’t shy away from the conversation just because it’s difficult. Acknowledging the problem is the first step toward change. No one should have to struggle in silence — and the more we talk about it, the more lives we can save.
Ashley M., Pleasantville, New York
As a rising eighth grader, I first learned about co-occurring disorders. Learning this term shifted my perspective since it applied to family and friends who were, unfortunately, undiagnosed. I felt compelled to spread awareness amongst those uninformed and to make a meaningful impact in mental health arenas.
In 2019, I became the youngest volunteer with the harris project — testifying at statewide hearings in New York to emphasize the importance of dedicated funding for co-occurring disorder programs. I also helped lead local youth summits, bringing together students and policymakers to elevate awareness and prevention
Motivated by the enthusiasm, youth engagement, and widespread impact witnessed at community events, I conducted a three-year research initiative focused on high-school athletes — an often-overlooked group in mental health discussions. My findings suggested that introducing awareness around co-occurring disorders helped reduce stigma, improved recognition of warning signs, and increased help-seeking. Prevention starts with awareness. By equipping youth with knowledge, they can better understand their mental health, recognize risks, and make informed choices.
Angela S., Westchester County, New York
I never thought I’d have to worry about my son. He was my bright, capable eldest — confident on the outside but struggling on the inside. When he didn’t get into his top-choice college, something in him shifted. One day, I came home and found him unconscious on the couch. I was stunned. I had no idea he was caught in a cycle of substance use, desperately trying to manage anxiety that had been with him since childhood.
My husband and I searched for help, but everything felt siloed — mental health in one place, substance use in another. Every morning, I feared I’d wake up to the call that we had lost him. We tracked his car, searched his room, trying to piece together the truth. But we didn’t know how to help.
At one point he said he felt stuck on a carousel of trying and quitting — cycling through Xanax, weed, and cocaine to manage his stress and self-doubt. He thought there was no way out. And for a long time, so did we.
By chance, I found a webinar hosted by the harris project that I asked him to watch with me. For the first time, we heard the term co-occurring disorders. He turned to me and said, “That’s what I relate to.” In that moment, everything shifted. I immediately reached out to see if the Encompass treatment model was the right fit. That night, a life was changed.
Encompass met him where he was, treating both his mental health and substance use together. A single clinician and psychiatrist worked as a team to help him understand himself — not just his substance use, but his fears, goals, past, and present. It changed everything.
Thankfully, four years later, he is thriving. What we went through before finding the right help is something no parent should have to endure. But every parent should understand what co-occurring disorders is, and that there is a real solution out there.
To purchase The Missing Issue for $8.99 go to https://magazineshop.us/harrisproject.
If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health and/or substance use, you are not alone. Seek immediate intervention — call 911 for medical attention; 988 for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline; or 1-800-662-HELP for the SAMHSA (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration) National Helpline. Carrying naloxone (Narcan) can help reverse an opioid overdose.
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