My brother Ryan and I unfortunately come from a long line of diagnosed mental illness, on both sides. Ryan was about 13-14 years old when he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. He was sent to an in-patient treatment center for a month, and then eventually sent home with medications and went to therapy once every two weeks.
At the time I was living the broke, early 20’s Southern California dream while he and my family lived a state away. I didn’t have any money to visit but Ryan and I would Skype often, text every other day and things seemed to be going really well. Ryan started high school, joined clubs he was passionate in and made a ridiculous amount of friends. I was happy for him.
A few years later after I went through a nasty breakup, I decided to quit my job, move back to my home state, live a calmer life and save some money while staying with my dad for a bit.
I was furious upon arrival. My dads house is set up with two master bedrooms and bathrooms, on opposite sides of the house essentially giving my 15 year old brother his own apartment. His room was gross, as I expect of any teenage boy, but this was extreme. No bedding whatsoever, food, wrappers, empty bottles-huge piles of them. Dirty clothes everywhere, literally could not see the carpet underneath, but the worse part was the pill bottles. About 10-12 FULL bottles of his prescription medication sitting on his dresser. I opened the top drawer to more bottles, second drawer to two or three more. In total there had to have been about 18 bottles, with more random pills spilled about on his clothes in the dresser.
My brothers excuse was that he felt better and so he stopped taking them. Dads excuse was that Ryan said he felt better so he let him not take them as often and that he ‘had no idea there were that many bottles and that he had stopped completely.’
It wasn’t until I had a long, anger fueled discussion with my dad about the condition of Ryans room, his habit of sleeping 15+ hours a day, not showering for days, wearing the same clothes over and over without washing them that my dad ‘noticed’ what was going on. I asked about the therapy sessions and was told ‘Ryan didn’t wanna go so I canceled his appointments last year.’
I got my brother in therapy ASAP, he was diagnosed with depression, taken off the other medication for good and given Lexapro. I helped him manage his medication, helped him clean his room, took him out, showed him some fun, taught him how to drive, etc. A few months later things were going awesome, he was excelling in school, Dad had met a woman and got engaged, I was offered an excellent job- but 1,000 miles away.
Every few months I would get notified that Ryan was at the doctors for migraines, arthritis, low weight, cramps, eye problems-all that came back with no diagnosis. The doctors all claimed it was his depression. My dad was frustrated at the costs and seemingly nothing wrong and I have to admit that there was a time where I thought Ryan was lying, but I also have a hard time trusting what my father says.
3 years later, I get a series of 10+ long texts from my dad who was furious and basically saying that Ryan is being over dramatic and is more lazy than depressed. He probably won’t be graduating high school because of poor grades and that my dad has decided to cut him off financially in July. All of this stemming from my brother asking my dad to please stop saying that he didn’t care about his future.
There are so many details and little things about our family dynamic but this is already a book.
I know my brother is wanting to come live with me, he’s expressed that many times and the deal was that he could once he graduated high school. I barely have my shit together, I was JUST diagnosed a few weeks back with GAD and Bipolar 2, so not only am settling in to that but I simply don’t have money to move him 1,000 miles and all of this seems so sudden. What if his mental state is way worse than I’ve been lead to believe?
I just feel so overwhelmed that my dad is coming to me to parent his child and won’t take Ryan’s cries for help seriously. It’s so scary and frustrating, I want the best for Ryan, although I’ve been gone a lot I do feel like I’ve raised him and that he will always come to me first but I don’t know what guiding an 18 year old boy entails. I’m so incredibly stressed and haven’t even responded to my dad yet. Any advice would be wonderful.
TL;DR Dad doesn’t think teenage brother is depressed, just lazy, despite his cries for help. I’m scared to move him in with me because I don’t know the extent of his mental illness.
[link] [comments]
from Relationships https://ift.tt/2KP9FpX
No comments:
Post a Comment