A tribute to Emilio from our Co-founder and Executive Chairman, Giovanni Colella

Today, several years ago, I received the dreaded phone call. It was my dear little sister calling me.

“Giovanni, this is it, Dad did it. This is the real one, you must come back to Italy now…”

Darkness invaded my body. I thought I was prepared. He had attempted many times before, but nobody can ever be prepared for this.

My father had committed suicide.

After spending his life fighting mental illness, he decided it was time to give up, time to go. The pain was too unbearable, and he saw no reason to continue. When he jumped, I think he didn’t realize that he was killing more than just one person.

As a child, every day as I walked home from school through the beautiful streets of Milan, I was overwhelmed by anxiety and fear. What will my father be like today? Will he give me a big hug, be funny and loving, and let me watch him develop photographs in his special dark room? Or will he be hyperactive, impulsive, and yes, violent, mean, and cruel?

My entire childhood I felt responsible looking after a father with a serious mental illness. When I wasn’t at school, I would be on constant alert, making sure my family was okay. I remember one day, my rugby team was playing a big game. They needed me, I wanted to be there, but I knew I had to be home to protect my mother and sister from someone who could be so loving one minute and so dangerous the next. This was constant in my life.

I had a love-hate relationship with my father. On the one hand, when he was doing well, he was wonderful, funny, smart, and charming. We all loved spending time with him and learning from him. Then, suddenly, he could become hyperactive, abusive and violent with those of us who loved him the most.

The hardest part was that I didn’t understand any of it. Yet watching him every day was a constant reminder that something was wrong in my life. Other dads weren’t like this, and it didn’t seem fair.

I felt guilty as if somehow I had caused him to be like this. Am I a difficult child? Is this a reflection of who I am? I was embarrassed. Insecure. Alone and afraid. There were even times as a young boy I questioned my will to live. What would it be like to take poison? I found myself engaging in reckless behavior — crossing dark streets during red lights, carelessly riding motorcycles. But at the end of the day, I knew my family needed me. My mother and sister kept me alive.

My insecurity translated into other areas of my life. I felt uncomfortable making friends and did not know how to be a good friend. I put immense pressure on everything I did, in hopes of making my father happy again. I excelled in sports and academics, but it never worked.

I wanted help, for my father and for myself, but did not know where to turn. I was lucky to have a wonderful mother, a sister who adored me, as I adored her, and friends and teachers who I could talk to when things got really bad.

In my 20s I came to America to study psychiatry. I had grown up realizing how important behavioral health is in our lives and wanted to learn more. I learned that my dad most likely experienced bipolar depression. And that it was completely treatable if managed correctly. That broke my heart. I am still angry now that he didn’t get the help that could have changed his and our lives.

I also learned that I myself had suffered from clinical depression as a child, and still struggle today. That said, my wife, my family, and therapy have kept me going and made me the man I am today — a doctor, an entrepreneur, a dad, and most important of all, a happy human being. Why can I have a happy life and so many suffering with mental illness end up like my father? In part because I received treatment when I needed it.

I look back and can’t help but wonder how our lives would be different today if we had gotten the help we needed back then. Maybe I would have gotten my childhood back. And maybe he would be sitting next to me today with that large grin — that grin I still long for — on his face holding one of his newly minted photographs.

Behavioral health issues in children are prevalent and devastating. The system is broken today with long waitlists, expensive appointments, poor coordination, and inconsistent outcomes. Many children do not get the care they need.

With this in mind, I joined forces with one of my dearest friends and Castlight Health co-founder, Naomi Allen, to found Emilio Health and provide to every child in need, the care that I did not get but would have greatly benefited from. Emilio is the name of my father, and together we are dedicating this company to him. Emilio is more than a company for us. It is a life long mission — our legacy and our dedication to a cause bigger than us.

Emilio Health’s mission is to be the technology-enabled behavioral health home for children and families. We will make the process of getting behavioral health care easier. We will provide high-quality care through a multidisciplinary team, clinically validated treatment plans, and a high-quality digital platform. We will create a community and a safe place for those to share their stories. All while making sure families and children are heard and supported.

This mission has deep personal importance to Naomi, our team and myself. We are fully committed to designing a whole new behavioral health experience that provides children and families with what they need and deserve.

Please visit our website to sign up for updates. Visit us at Angel List if you’re interested in joining our team. Emilio Health needs you, and the world needs Emilio Health.

Dad, I love you and I miss you so much, but I know today that I can finally make you proud of me.

Much love,

Giovanni