Always Loved, Always Remembered, Never Forgotten
October 4, 1986 to January 13, 2012
Lori Robison founded Moms Strong after the death of her beautiful son, Shane Robinson.
Shane was a handsome 6’4″ young man and always seemed larger than life with his big heart, infectious smile, and zest for life.. He excelled at sports, especially water sports.
Shane suffered two psychotic breaks from marijuana use. After the psychosis abated, he died by suicide 7 months later.
October 15, 1982 to March 1, 2014
This is the story of my son Andy Zorn…Andy was born in 1982 and had a joyful life easily making and keeping friends. It was his mission to make friends and family laugh and have a good time and he was GOOD at it. He was class clown. He made parties come alive. When he grew older he helped good friends with their mental health and substance abuse issues. But it all began to get harder for him to do as he became a teen and thought he had to participate in drinking and drugs to fit in. He was good at hiding the extent to which he indulged in these activities and surprised everyone with his statements in a suicide note: “My soul is already dead. Marijuana killed my soul + ruined my brain.”
College Station, Texas
04/14/1999 to 12/05/2018
Our middle child of 5, David was the most beautiful boy, inside and out, before weed. He loved his family. He loved Jesus. He loved everyone.
He had ADD. A friend told him pot was “fun and legal in most states”. David tried it and he liked it. He changed almost instantly. We had 5 rebellious years. We had him in weekly counseling. I took him to talk with our pastor, and I took him to several psychiatrists. He would not take antidepressants. He believed only pot helped his depression.
Marijuana causes depression and psychosis that caused him to take his life 12-05-2018.
February 10, 1989 to August 14, 2018
Our son Kevin was 15 when he started abusing marijuana. He was very good at hiding his use until he came to us and said he was depressed and needed help. We spoke with an educational consultant; they evaluated Kevin and recommended a therapeutic wilderness program. This was the beginning of many years of therapy and other programs Kevin participated in. From age 15 to 29, Kevin’s drug of choice was marijuana. During that time period he had many psychotic breaks, 51/50’s (Editors note: 5150 refers to the California law code for the temporary, involuntary psychiatric commitment of individuals who present a danger to themselves or others due to signs of mental illness) and at least three suicide attempts.
Over the years he used marijuana with higher and higher amounts of THC. About two years before he took his life he said, “Cannabis has ruined my life.” We love and miss Kevin very much, everyday. One way we are trying to honor Kevin’s life is by telling his story and educating other parents and young people about the great harm that most of today’s marijuana with high THC, does to the developing brain.
(Fact: One of the periods of rapid growth for the human brain is ages 12 to 25. This is a crucial period that determines the structure and future functioning of the adult brain.)
Bart and Hazel Bright, California
July 25, 2000 to March 27, 2019
My heart stopped that night, 3/27/2019 at 10:45 pm, when I looked down from the Joppa road bridge and saw son’s body! I remember screaming to him, “Mommy is here”! The police officer who was doing compressions, stopped, and looked up at me. Our eyes met for a moment; it was like a dream. Everything slowed down. This was a nightmare I could not wake up from!
My son was an intelligent, articulate, comical young man, and he loved babies and pets. He loved to read, was a big Star Wars fan, enjoyed creating Lego Star Wars masterpieces, cooking, and loved everyone. He especially loved being with family and friends. He always worked hard to please everyone and paid close attention to details. He always knew what gift anyone in the family would like most. His favorite holiday was Christmas, his favorite color was green, and he loved to just relax at home playing board games and poker! He told me once that he wanted to become a Certified Management Accountant, get married and have 4 children. He got along with everyone, even those who bullied and harassed him for his weight or ethnicity.
4.26.1995 to 6.05.2015
Charles was complex, adorable, frustrating, hilarious, effervescent, electric, charming, and eccentric. From the time he came into the world to the time he left, his presence was all-consuming. He pushed boundaries past comfortable, questioned everything, and was relentless and persistent when he wanted something. When Charles waltzed in, the fun had arrived–faces brightened, bodies turned toward him like he brought the sunshine in his pocket and he was there to hand it out. The life of the party, the center of the universe took his own life and in its place is an ocean-sized crater. He was one of those bigger-than-life personalities who exceeded his allotment of space on earth despite his six foot two and 130-pound frame.
If there was one consistent theme about Charles, it was that he always reached out. He reached out to kids who were not always visible to others and to ones who were highly visible as well. He put himself at risk socially doing this. But unlike other kids his age, he didn’t care.
He’d stand up for other kids who had no friends at all or had tons of friends, kids who felt isolated or depressed or were having a hard time with something in their lives. He reached out to kids who were unusual, unpopular, different, and those who were popular and hiding their pain.
Even in the latter five years of his life as he struggled with mental illness (anxiety and depression), substance misuse, then addiction, our family was in chaos. He left behind music lyrics that revealed the ‘why’ behind his suicide and a selection of those are included in the book, Diary of a Broken Mind: A Mother’s Story, a Son’s Suicide and the Haunting Lyrics he Left Behind. After his death, his mother started a blog called emotionallynaked.com and became the emotionally naked speaker to talk about substance misuse, mental illness, suicide prevention, and grief
Marijuana was the “medicine” for anxiety. My son felt he had found the answer to his problems and started using daily to manage anxiety, depression, and his sleep problems which quickly graduated to harder drugs and an outright obsession with substances. There are indications from conversations with his brother and instances in his music that suggest periods of psychosis but there was never a formal diagnosis of such.
2.07.2021 to 11.20.2019
Johnny Stack was born on February 7, 2000, and died by suicide on November 20, 2019, at the age of 19. He was an incredibly intelligent, funny, charming, handsome young man, which you can see in his tribute video at https://johnnysambassadors.org/tribute. We are a regular suburban family that did regular family things. He had a happy life, a 4.0 GPA with a scholarship to college, and a family who loved him very much.
Unfortunately, we live in Colorado, which was the first state to legalize marijuana in 2012, when Johnny was 12 years old, and marijuana came to the schools in 2014 when sales began. He first tried marijuana at a high school party, because his friend’s brother was 18 and had a medical marijuana card.
Three days before he passed, he came over for dinner. He lived in our condo a couple miles down the street and would often pop in for a home-cooked meal. “I need to tell you that you were right,” he says me. “Right about what?” I ask. “Right about the marijuana. You told me weed would hurt my brain, and it’s ruined my mind and my life. You were right all along. I’m sorry, and I love you.” He died by suicide three days later.
After he died, we read in his journals he thought the mob was after him, the university was an FBI base, and the whole world knew everything about him. He wasn’t depressed, neglected, drugged, or unloved. He was psychotic, paranoid, and delusional, and he killed himself in a psychotic incident fleeing these imaginary foes.
4.12.1996 to 9.20.2018
Jolo immigrated to the USA from the Philippines in 2014 at age 18. He attended a prestigious Catholic private school, his analytical mind excelled at Math and English. Though he lost his father when he was 8 years old, Jolo’s grandfather played an important role in his life.
In 2016, when the Prop 64, recreational marijuana, was approved in California, Jolo and his friends starting using marijuana. Jolo graduated with an Associate’s Degree in Business with a 3.6 general average, while working 20 hours a week. During this time, he loved to go to the beach, and play soccer and basketball.
He moved to Long Beach and started his university life attending California State University in Long Beach. His first semester was great, and he was even accepted as an accounting intern. His marijuana use increased and quickly progressed to a disorder.
His first psychotic episode occurred on April 23, 2018 while attending the Coachella Festival. On April 25, the university police brought him to the psychiatric facility for an involuntary hospitalization, or 5150. He stayed in the hospital for 72 hours. He called me to see him on May 1st. He just wanted my company. We hung out at San Pedro cliff, and he asked me to take a video of him walking by the cliff. He also asked someone to take a picture of us together. That is my best moment with my son. Another 5150 occurred on May 22, June 21, and July 26. He was not admitted in any rehab, as marijuana use is not considered by insurances. I was taking care of him at this time, and he stayed with me in Riverside county.
Jolo didn’t have any flare ups so I allowed him to go back to his dorm for the fall semester of 2018, only for him to die after a month. He called me every night for 2 weeks about his anxiety symptoms. On September 19, 2018, I suspected that he had swung by a Cannabis store to buy marijuana because he thought it would calm him down. That night his psychotic symptoms flared up. No student, including the dorm supervisor, could pacify him. They decided to call the university police. He was brought to a psychiatric facility, but due to the lack of supervision he was able to sneak out. He walked outside and kept walking until he decided to take his own life by jumping on the main road with a car fast approaching. He was brought to the hospital but died from his injuries.
My only son had the sweetest smile, perfect teeth, beautiful soft eyes, and huggable stocky build. The pain for me is still the same as the day he died.