we swing in a tub
My brother and I used to call this 'in a tub'. Don't ask me why. I'm sure it made perfect sense to us at the time. Now looking back it just sounds weird.
He and I used to have such a sweet relationship. Both of us being homeschooled probably drew us closer to each other than many other siblings are as children.
We were each others best friends, protectors, and school mates.
And then he changed. A lot. It was like my old sweet brother was slowly being snuffed out, and this new paranoid one was coming to life. He'd sleep with a bat because he swore someone was trying to get him. He thought someone was standing outside his window and barking at him… no one was. He couldn't even watch T.V. without it talking back to him.
My brother was being swallowed alive by Schizophrenia. I wish his story had a happier ending. One of those Hollywood fairy tales they craft up about the disease. Alas, no, he ended up like many with this disease. Off and on his medication. Off because the voices in his head told him to go off them. On because he was able to see past those voices and listen to us.
Now he sits in prison. So much lost. His life, our lives, what could have been, what should have been… had this disease skipped over our house and picked someone else.
Some days at the park with my children I see my brother and I as children. I smile. And then I tear up. If only I could bottle up that brother and take him with me.
But I can't. And I have to find a way to live with the person he is now. It isn't easy, or fun, or light hearted, or even possible sometimes. It's more than I can take. Sometimes I'm angry. Sometimes I'm fed up. Most of the time I'm just sad.
It isn't fair, but it's life.
So now, I get lost in my children and their relationships. I pray, literally, over them and their little bodies and minds… and I also pray that they can remain the best of friends even if personalities, or circumstances make it hard to do so.
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Comments on we swing in a tub
I kinda know what you mean.. My little brother grew up to hate us.. We had three sets of females all telling him how ot act.. He grew up to go to jovie then to regular prison and he tried to excape and fell when his sheet rope broke. He died. He is now in heaven I hope…So everyone has a deamon or two …
WOW! I'm so sorry you had/have to go through that. Prays for your kiddos sent from me right now!
Oh, Nell. My heart hurts for you.
My college boyfriend dealt with the same disease, so I understand more than you know.
Praying for peace in your heart…
Oh wow, Nell. I have goosebumps. I had no idea.
Small world.
My 2nd oldest brother is acute paranoid schizophrenic, his official diagnosis. He was diagnosed at 17, right around when I was born (I am the youngest of 8).
He is an amazing guy, but it truly hurts sometimes. I have witnessed some incredible things because of him, as I am sure you have with your brother.
My ears are always open, if you ever need to chat.
Hugs!
I have a very close family member who has BiPolar. I feel a lot of what you posted here. Sorta bitter sweet memories.
Thank you for your blog post. You can feel the love you have for your brother…
FABULOUS pictures! Thank you for visiting my blog!
Oh Nell, a huge hug for you.
Hugs to you! I am sorry for the sadness you have to feel over this!
Losing someone you love to whatever the cause is very trying on one's spirit. You really have an inspiring attitude and faith. Those two things can certainly get a person through many trials. May God grant you your prayers for your children and also an abundance of peace and joy to you.
Nell,
You emit a sense of strength and now I know why. After reading this I read a few of the older related posts. I am so sorry that you and your family have known this pain. I have a brother who struggles in different ways. I understand in some ways the pain of watching someone so close struggle so much and watching them cause and endure so much pain.
I can not imagine how painful that must be for you. My grandmother's sister was schizophrenic. For the longest time no one talked about her. She was in a home about an hours drive from us. They would go over to visit her, but sometimes she didn't know anyone. Other times she did. I grew up wondering if it would happen to me. She was artistic…I enjoyed art….would I be next?
So far, no…but somedays I still worry.
She passed away several years ago. Reading the letters she used to write to her parents, asking them if she could come home and that she would be better if she did, breaks my heart.
Hang in there. I wish I could offer more than that.
Nell, I just got teary-eyed. What a painful thing to go through. And how wonderful that you are able to keep "perspective" and pray so sweetly over your little boys instead of getting "lost" in sadness. You are amazing.