I miss you deeply. It’s hard to articulate, especially since you’re physically close by, but things have changed between us. You’re different now, and so am I.
Mental illness has transformed everything. It crept in quietly, like an unseen force pulling us away from the shore. We continued to navigate life, unaware of the subtle signs that hinted at the struggles ahead. Now, we find ourselves adrift, longing for the familiar comfort of solid ground.
We’re stuck in a riptide, unable to break free, and it feels like help is nowhere to be found. We keep ourselves afloat, hoping to survive, desperately trying to keep our heads above water. Medications, doctors, therapists, and emergency services are well-intentioned, but they often leave us with more questions than answers.
It’s an odd feeling to be surrounded by so many thoughts yet feel so isolated. Sometimes, I wish those thoughts were tangible companions, sharing this burden with us. But then I catch myself thinking that way, and I realize how “crazy” that sounds—a word that feels inappropriate coming from someone who is perceived as stable.
Sometimes, being stable feels like a burden. I think back to the 14-year-old version of you and wish I could have taught you how to navigate these turbulent waters more effectively. There are some forces that are simply too strong for us to contend with, and mental illness is one of them.
Even expressing these feelings is challenging. When I finally became comfortable discussing them, the understanding slipped away. The reality of your situation feels so disconnected from the person I used to know. You should understand, this isn’t what I envisioned for you. I still see those big brown eyes from years past—the ones that looked so apprehensive when you first came into our lives. It wasn’t always simple, but you found your place, and when you smiled, it brought joy to everyone around you, including me.
I miss that smile. It feels buried beneath layers of medication and struggles that go unheard. With all the shattered pieces we’ve gathered, the one I wish would break is that mask you wear. Right now, it seems to be the only thing holding you up.
At least I find some solace in knowing you’re safe today, even if that safety is behind locked doors, designed to protect you from yourself. Yet, this doesn’t feel entirely safe, and tomorrow could bring a new set of challenges.
Mental illness has taught me to question everything. Emotions can shift so rapidly that it’s disorienting, and the recovery from hospital stays can be just as swift. I don’t recognize this version of you, and truthfully, I struggle to connect with him.
Nevertheless, I want you to know that I am here for you. It might not always feel that way amid this chaos. I had to step back to keep from being swept away with you, but I promise you are not alone. You never were, and you never will be.
While it may be harder for you to see me right now, please understand that my distance is not a rejection. It’s an effort to breathe and regain my footing. I only wish you could understand that.
Regardless of where the currents take us, you are my brother, and you are loved unconditionally.
Always,
Your Sister
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Summary: This heartfelt message expresses deep feelings of longing and concern for a brother grappling with mental health issues. It acknowledges the changes both siblings have undergone while emphasizing the importance of support and love. The message combines personal reflections with resources for further understanding mental health challenges and related topics.