by Ryan Meyers

Created on: December 12, 2008

Let's see, mental illness and its effects on a family. Well let me start by saying my sister is bipolar and the effects on our family were and are devastating.

The truth is that I can't even allow myself to truly feel how hurt I am for her an my mother because I have a family of my own and the realization just brings me to a place of unexplainable wrongs.

Having no understanding whatsoever of mental illness left me completely disoriented for years after being blind sided by this horrifying diagnosis.

The first few years following my sister's breakdown were so unbearable our family just fell apart. My mother was left to struggle on the front lines of the "battle of identity". Drugs, alcohol and the complete destruction of self by my sister dominated those years and my mother just rode the lightning with great determination for the minute chance of something changing for the better.

I think the worst thing for me was watching the life drain slowly from my mother's body. It was as if there was a black hole inside my sister with an insatiable appetite for human soul and it was not satisfied with simply stealing its host's soul but anyone's who had invested emotion in the host's life. Of course my mother was the one soldier to stick around way beyond white flag circumstances but we all know that's what mothers do.

Running as far away as possible was the cure all for me; first physically and then mentally with drugs and alcohol. I was simply moving through life with no direction. Numb most of the time and consumed with hate and anger for the rest. I was still the life of the party but inside I was tormented. I could not find anything good in this world.

Prior to my sister's diagnosis I was optimistic, adventurous and passionate about everything much like my mother but both of us would eventually succumb to the harsh reality that was now our lives.

I still have flashes of my childhood when I revered my sister for her accomplishments and brilliant mind. She was beautiful inside and out and she could make everyone who met her fall in love within seconds. Now it's like having three or four sisters only one of whom I really like or enjoy accompanying me but the good sister never seems to show up. She has no identity.

It's a shame that mental illness usually hits you at the same age that your identity is crushed and rebuilt anyways. I mean it is hard enough when you realize you are completely different from the person you thought you were in high school and it takes most of us

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>