9/8/2012: A Discussion With A Highly Functioning Schizophrenic And My Brothers Trip To The Library

I spoke with a next door neighbor yesterday, he is a highly functioning schizophrenic. He essentially told me the same conclusions that I came to in my last blog post. There really is little that I can do for my brother except just be there. I cannot get him to start taking his meds, I cannot help him get his life in order, I am utterly helpless to change anything about his life. The only thing that I can do is be a part of his network of support, and some relief to my mother who with my sister has had to deal with him exclusively as the rest of our family will have nothing to do with my brother. They are useless anyways so although its saddens me that they will not help tow the line for a family member, they themselves are not the kind of people who understand mental illness, nor are the best people who can be empathetic towards the plight of the schizophrenic. However, I must be honest. I sometime feel as if I lack the strength to help my brother, let alone be there for him at the drop of a dime. He wants absolute independence and resents me being here with him, yet he is so completely dependent on me for helping to keep his apartment clean, cook his meals, and be his only friend (and I do mean his only friend). I live in a constant state of preparedness for the inevitable breakdown that he will have, and that is not even an accurate statement. I live on the edge of a knife waiting for him to loose it the same as he did last time, and I know that no matter what I do, it will eventually happen especially since he has completely fallen off his medication regiment even though he has not even been out of the hospital but a week. Yesterday (9/8) he showed up at my job with a large shiner on his left cheekbone. Apparently he was at the library and had a seizure, fell and struck a table with his face. When I asked him if he took his medicine, he paused, thought about it for a second and then told me that he did. I asked if the medicine had time to hit his system and he said that he didn't think it did. Truth be told, I don't think that he was being entirely honest with me. I love my brother, but the stress is getting to me badly. I don't know if I will be able to live this close to him for much longer, and I have started making preparations to find other living arrangements if his instability continues. I walked into this blindly, and frankly I feel as if my family did not really prepare me for what I was getting into. My life is a day to day struggle with frustration and stress.