Sleep doesn’t bring Tammy Jones much rest these days.

"I’m afraid to wake up," she says. "I’m afraid he’s not going to be in his room."

"He" is her son, Chad, who ran away from home one night last August. Police officers found him at the Talent police station, not far from home, crying for help.

"He just freaked out and ran away," she says.

Jones soon learned that Chad was mentally ill. He has symptoms of both schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, a combination that psychiatrists call schizo-affective disorder.

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"He hears voices," Jones says. "Some of them are not nice to him. He sees things — faces in the window. He smells things. Once he saw a mouse. That one drove me crazy. I didn’t know if there really was a mouse."

Chad, now 18, has been hospitalized four times since he fell ill. The family has health insurance, but they’re responsible for at least 40 percent of Chad’s doctor bills and hospital charges as well as co-pays for psychiatric medicines.

Jones says she has been looking for financial help to pay the costs of caring for her son, but she’s discovered that government assistance is scarce when a family earns too much money to qualify for the Oregon Health Plan.

"What do people do when they don’t make enough (to pay their bills), but they make too much (to qualify for government assistance)?" she asks.

Unfortunately, the family’s dilemma is not unusual. Cutbacks in government funding for mental health and reductions in the Oregon Health Plan mean that many families can’t get help when mental illness strikes.

"People are really in a bind trying to take care of mentally ill family members," says Vern Weaver, a volunteer with the Southern Oregon chapter of the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill. "You will find there are people struggling throughout this valley."

Resources "are getting scarcer and scarcer," says Hank Collins, Jackson County’s director of health and human services. "It’s really, really tough."

Jones says her husband has been working two jobs and selling plasma to try to keep ahead of the bills. She can’t work because someone has to be with Chad around the clock.

"He can have depression or a manic episode, or he can have a psychotic episode," she says. "I never know.

"It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever been through in my life."

Chad applied for federal disability assistance (supplemental security income, better known as SSI) a few months ago, but there’s no way to know whether the request will be approved.

"SSI is not easy to get," Weaver says. "It takes quite a bit of qualifications to get, and sometimes you have to apply four to six times to get it."

Help might be easier to find if Chad were to become a danger to himself or others, but Jones has been working hard to help him avoid an incident that might further jeopardize his health.

"It’s wrong to wait until something happens to get help," she says.

When "something" happens, the assistance that’s available usually falls far short of what’s needed, says Weaver, the NAMI volunteer. If a crime has been committed, a mentally ill person might be hospitalized for a few days, but most people eventually end up on the street.

"It becomes a vicious cycle," Weaver says.

Chad turns 19 next April, and his coverage under the family’s health insurance will terminate. Meanwhile, the medical bills keep coming, and Jones is losing hope.

"I don’t want to lose him," she says.

"I’m not asking for the moon and stars. I’m just asking for a little help here."

National Alliance for the Mentally Ill, Southern Oregon: 774-7872

Reach reporter Bill Kettler at 776-4492, or e-mail bkettler@mailtribune.com