At 3 a.m., my son Tyler (not his real name) pounds on my bedroom door asking for a kratom drink (more about that later), coffee, and his daily spending money. I stay in bed. At 3:15, 3:45, 4, and 5:30 a.m., he pounds again. Three hours of sleep for me. Probably none for him. Not good for either of our mental illnesses. I’m the father and guardian of my 33-year-old son Tyler who lives with a serious mental illness (SMI) – schizoaffective disorder….