Dee. My brother. I love him so dearly. I feel so helpless and angry that all I can do is watch as he is consumed more and more fully by his sickness. He has refused to talk about his mental illness this entire year. I know he is aware at times that something is wrong but he won’t talk about it. I try most times when we do speak because as I mentioned in my last post, his brain truly is burning. How can I not say something to my loved one is on such a dark path? He gets worse every day that goes by, his behavior escalating and becoming more erratic and dangerous on a daily basis. He is screaming to the world for help, a world that is incapable of helping. I always thought that I would get through to him, talk him through his sickness, let him know that he is not alone in this fight and he has a family that loves him. It is so strange that the harder we tried to tell him that the more he felt alone, depressed and paranoid. That was the sickness though. I so struggle with when to intervene and when to leave him be. He has the right to decide his own treatments, where he wants to live, how he wants to live, if he wants to share his struggle with mental illness. But what happens when he is trying to kill himself? When is it ok to step in and when are we infringing on his autonomy? This is one of the questions I struggle with every day. I think that if we traded places I would want my family to help. But the thought of being in a locked in a treatment center, required to take medications with dangerous and side effects, how terrifying that must be. Would I rather be left alone to live in my alternate reality? I’m unsure.
Dee was committed to a long term, state run, mental health treatment facility last week. It’s not the worst one available but it isn’t the best. It’s large, 287 beds. The state finally mandated his treatment after a very scary few months especially those last 48 hours in which he threatened himself, others, committed crimes, etc. I still can’t believe my sweet, shy, witty little brother can be described as such. He is so sick. He was collecting weapons, a big hunters knife that he wore on his belt and played with. He tried to purchase a gun. He grew to be so hateful and violent. All the sudden raciest remarks were flying out of his mouth, hateful things against women, the non- religious…. and on and on. He thinks the government, the university, his family are all trying to hurt him and he needed to protect himself. That everyone wanted to tear him apart because he was so smart and special, and god-like. Fairly typical paranoid delusional behavior. My mom, who he lived with, was in fear of her life. She called me to let me know she had updated her will last week, that I was to be the executor and she told me verbally what she wanted.
Dee and I had such a bond growing up. I am 5 years his senior and played a maternal role for a lot of his life. He would come to me for my opinion and we would have long discussions about life and philosophy, science and art. At family gatherings we were the two rolling our eyes at each other in exasperation at our dysfunctional family. I never though we would loose that connection. I am now one of the primary family members associated with his paranoia and he hates me for it. I haven’t been able to pick up the phone and call him yet. I am terrified to hear his pain, or more of his delusions. I don’t feel like I am able to hear those things right now. Guilt. I feel so guilty for feeling like that. It’s strange but now that he is finally committed, there is no denying that he is that sick. There was a part of me that was living in denial. And now I am awake.
I hope for treatment and recovery. I hope for his future. I hope for healing for our family, just beside ourselves having watched him crumble. I fear for his life in that hospital but hope.. I hope he is medicated and finds clarity. That he can start new. Hope.
Been there. Have you been in touch with your local NAMI group for support and information? Also to learn about state laws on committment (they vary from state to state in the US) you can go to this website: http://www.treatmentadvocacycenter.org. Take care.
Kim,
Now that you are awake the pain is even more real too. Just know that you are not alone. I struggle with the same questions. And I understand the incredible loss you feel that is unique to having a family member with mental illness. It’s so difficult because it doesn’t have an end the way death does. You have lost Dee, but he is still here, suffering. The brother you knew is gone, but someone else is in the shell of who he was, someone frightening, violent, someone in constant struggle. It’s so hard.
I remember when my sister thought I was trying to kill her. There is nothing you or I can do, and I hope you will realize that figuring out the best way to respond and, knowing for sure what action will result in the best outcome, is really impossible. There is no way to know what will happen next. The unpredictability is another kind of pain unique to your situation, and to mine. You and your family are doing the best you can and that is good enough.
It is obvious how much you love your brother. He may not be able to comprehend that right now, but that doesn’t make it less true. It’s not up to you to have all the answers. Are you familiar with the Serenity Prayer? It’s a wise way to cope with the uncertainty. I’m a believer in God, and if you are too, then asking Him to help, to step in, is something to think about. He loves your brother even more than you do. He understands his journey and is with Dee in his sickness.
If you aren’t a believer, then the Serenity Prayer still works. A little advice: Don’t forget to breathe. Find peaceful moments for yourself.
I get that you feel guilty for not wanting to hear his delusions or be around him, but your reaction in NORMAL and you have to pace yourself in terms of what you can deal with emotionally. If he were in his right mind, he would not want you to put yourself in a position where you are harmed emotionally. He doesn’t want YOU to crumble, not the real Dee who is not sick. That Dee wants you to be happy and whole and take good care of yourself. And so do all the other people in your life who know and care about you. It is one of the worst pains possible to watch someone you love constantly suffer. Be gentle with yourself.
Cedartree. Thank you for your comment. You verbalized so many of the complex emotions felt by those with a family member suffering from mental illness, just thank you. It warms my heart and renews my faith in the world that you would take the time craft such a touching and thoughtful response. It truly helped me cope and deal with the pain of the past few months. I forwarded your comment to my sister who read it aloud to my mom (who isn’t a blogger and very hesitant to talk to non-family about Dee) at the kitchen table. She was in awe that there are others suffering just like her. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
You are so welcome. I’m glad it helped your mom and sister. None of us asked to be in this club, and yet here we are. It’s good we can be there for each other.
It’s been hard to read your posts because I have gone through so many of the same emotions over a twenty-year period. This is one of the worst illnesses there is. It steals your loved one–body and soul. It can also destroy a family so it is important to take care of yourself. I am glad that you have connected with NAMI. (My story was featured in the person-first column–fall 2011–of their magazine, The Advocate.) The only good thing I can say is that my son is basically happy. He is, however, far from the person he was before his illness began. Like your brother he was very smart with an IQ of 159. Everyone is different and I hope your brother will get better now that he is in the hospital. I also hope for a cure or, at the very least, better treatment. My best to your mom. Drag her along to a NAMI meeting if she hasn’t gone as yet.
Waywordweed, NAMI seriously was the best decision I’ve made regarding Dee’s illness. I learned SO much and re-learned how to think about mental illness. I will keep trying to drag my mom to one.
This is heart-wrenching. Please keep loving your brother.