In 1990, my parents separated and my dad moved out. I was 9 years old and my brother was 5 and we were the only stable thing eachother had. We did what would any other child in our situation would do, cling to one another and become inseparable. We fought like brother and sister. We made up games, built forts out of blankets, camped, fished, developed a love for sports... he would grow up a Raiders fan, which I know he only did to upset my dad and I. It didn't matter, basketball is what ran through our veins. We went to eachother's games and I can remember the first time he beat me one on one. After awhile he refused to play with me, "I am not going to play with you, because you will lose and then throw the ball at me." He was right. He was my best friend.
We went through alot with our family. Some things only I remember. Some things I wish I didn't remember. Some things I wonder if he really doesn't remember. In 1999, I headed off to college, almost leaving that life, my best friend behind me. It was the year that things started to change. I look back at this year and wonder if I could have done something different. What if I didn't go to college in another City? What if I would have come home more often? Would things have been different?
The next year my brother was diagnosed with a mental illness, it would be the first of many diagnoses. Since then I have watched his internal battle. His weight fluctuate. His mood change in a blink of an eye. I could go months without seeing him or talking to him, and then the next time I would come home we would be best friends again. Once a person turns 18 there is very little family can do to help. We are not allowed to get any medical information, we can not make him take his medication and we can't ask anyone for help unless he is willing. If you call the cops or the hospital because you believe someone with a mental illness is suicidal, they will put them in a 72 hour hold and that is it. We have had to do this.
Our healthcare system is not set up to help people with mental illness. However, society is quick to judge those mental health patients that cause pain to others. We are quick to judge the homeless on the street who may have mental illnesses as well. Sometimes I see someone on the streets that reminds me of my brother and stop to think about their family. Our society doesn't want to talk about mental illness, address it or offer solutions.
I always pictured being in my brother's wedding, our kids playing together... now, I would really just love it if he would play basketball with me. I miss my brother.
