We were going through a bunch of old photos today to make some collages for my brothers funeral and, man, was that rough. I cried multiple times just looking at photos of him when he was a kid. I guess you'd need to know the history of our family and relationship to really understand. In brief, my brother was sent away when he was around 14 because he started acting out really badly and was diagnosed as a schizophrenic. So, I didn't see him all that much till about 10 years later when he moved back home. So, looking at the photos from before he changed just makes me sad. I just sit here wondering how life would've been for him if he didn't have that mental illness. I hate it. I hate that life is that way for some people. Life was so hard for him and that illness changed everything.
My sister put up photos of him on Facebook yesterday. The last two nights I've gone to look at them and the minute I see those photos of him as that cute little kid that was a happy and great brother, I just breakdown. I can't stand it.
Why do there need to be mental illnesses???