That's the only resolution her mother, Mary, has found since her 34-year-old daughter was gunned down by Lehi police officers after shooting a captain during a traffic stop last month.

Wark legally bought her .38-caliber Rossi pistol in 2003 in Washington state. Mary Wark said her daughter felt she had to protect herself.

The family felt "horrible" about the weapon, "and we told her so," Mary Wark said. "But in [Washington], unless someone has been involuntarily committed, they're allowed. . . . There wasn't anything we could do to control the situation."

Both lawmakers and families struggle with firearms regulations for the mentally ill. With regard to psychiatric patients who haven't been court-ordered to receive treatment, laws that restrict them from possessing guns are controversial among advocates who say the mentally ill should not be treated like criminals. Others point to a system that leaves families with two options when illness escalates: Deal with often-inadequate treatment, or have a loved one locked away in a facility or behind bars.

Wark began to struggle with mental illness in 2001 while living in Washington state and painting portraits professionally, Mary Wark said. Her insurance allowed 12 counselor visits a year.

"Once a month is not enough," Mary Wark said. She would not discuss her daughter's symptoms, but other relatives have said Wark showed signs of paranoia.

Her ex-husband, Craig Hancock, has said she told him she had dissociative disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder, and made claims that a variety of people had abused her. He recounted an incident where she once brandished a 12-gauge shotgun at friends who arrived at her home to return a Bible she had forgotten at study group.

Utah and Washington state have similar laws on gun ownership and mental illness. As per federal law, guns are banned for those who have been court-ordered to inpatient treatment or determined by a judge to be unable to care for themselves.

When Hancock warned Wark's family of the shotgun incident, they felt at a loss, Mary Wark said. Neither Hancock nor the Bible study friends reported her to the police, and Mary Wark said she herself had never witnessed any violent behavior. Meanwhile, hauling Wark into court to be institutionalized likely would have alienated her from a family whose support she needed.

"It's a hard choice. She was functioning pretty well most of the time. . . . You want [your children] to have the best life they can. Taking away her freedom - is that doing that? . . . What does that do to your family relationship?"

It isn't clear that Wark would have met the criteria for court-ordered commitment, which vary from state to state, said Sherri Wittwer, director of the Utah branch of the National Alliance on Mental Illness.

"There is no one-size-fits-all for these families," Wittwer said. "Everyone has to make the best decisions from the information they have at the time."

Yet had there been a mechanism to remove Wark's guns without forced commitment, Mary Wark said her family likely would have pursued it.

"That's something that should be changed - making a path for, 'Gosh, maybe this person shouldn't be having these weapons,' " she said.

Such provisions exist in some states: In Illinois, state police may take firearms from a "person whose mental condition is of such a nature that it poses a clear and present danger to the applicant, any other person or persons or the community." Recent laws require hospitals and mental health clinics to report such cases to the state. Hawaii simply disqualifies anyone who has ever been diagnosed with "a significant behavioral, emotional or mental disorder" from owning guns unless there is medical documentation that the patient has recovered.

The problem, patient advocates say, is when the law equates mental illness to violence.

"Only a small percentage of people with mental illness are actually violent," Wittwer said. "We want to decide what the criteria is that would prevent individuals from possessing firearms without subjecting people with mental illness to further stigma and prejudice, which could deter people from seeking treatment."

A more significant deterrent for Wark, her mother said, was cost. Her insurance required a 50 percent co-pay - "a motivation, toward the end, not to go as often as she should have been going," Mary Wark said. Finding a compatible doctor was difficult; the Warks could find only one policy that covered the self-employed for mental health, and network requirements limited Wark's selection.

"I didn't see that her medical care was totally the best all the time," Mary Wark said. ". . . And look what we had to go through to get that. Most regular folks aren't going to be able to do all that."

Relatives have said Wark was taking her medication when she moved to Provo this year to attend massage therapy school. It is unclear what went wrong June 23.

That morning, Lehi police Capt. Harold Terry stopped Wark's car near 1000 E. Main St. because store clerks reported she might be driving under the influence.

She and Terry spoke briefly, police said, before the shooting began. Mary Wark said officers told her there was some kind of struggle between Terry and her daughter when Wark's gun discharged. Terry was shot twice in the head.

Officials with the Utah County Attorney's Office declined to comment other than to say they are investigating the circumstances that led up to the shooting. Lehi police have said Terry is recovering, and his family has asked that his condition not be released.

Mary Wark cannot understand how her daughter's illness led to this.

"I really can't imagine her thinking to herself, 'Oh, I'm just going to pick up my gun and shoot these guys,' " she said. "There had to be some kind of extreme agitation, where she somehow felt threatened."

ealberty@sltrib.com

What the Supreme Court says

In striking down a Washington, D.C., ban on handguns last month, the U.S. Supreme Court justices made clear laws prohibiting firearms possession by the mentally ill can remain intact.