The end is near....

When my family and I moved in with my brother after my mother's death, we were already walking into one hell of a mess, but I have this constant need to "fix" things for those I love and care for. Looking back now, and regardless of the mess I walked into, I wouldn't trade the experiences and memories my brother and I shared during the few years we lived under the same roof. I'm even grateful for the arguments and the not so pleasant moments, because even when those happened we both apologized and said "I love you." but it ultimately was our ending, only neither of us knew that.

My brother had severe anxiety and depression, I'm sure he suffered with this his whole life and I know the death of our mother escalated it. Our mother suffered with these for as long as I could remember and I know I do and I'm sure our older sister does as well. Everyone handles these differently and each of us definitely managed them as polar opposites. As a family we didn't win the "Mental Health" lotto though and I only wish now that it would have been openly talked about in our family so we all could of managed it better then and now.

Everyone talks about the "black sheep" of the family, well I lived in a family of them and I was the odd one. Either I just ignored the fact I had severe anxiety or I reached out through a medical professional and therapist for help, but this wasn't until I got older and out of the house. My mother was on medication and did therapy when I was younger, but at some point she would just "self" medicated with alcohol, my brother "self" medicated as well and I'm assuming our sister does as well. I was able to get my brother to see an actual doctor once when we lived with each other, but that was short lived and to be honest I was afraid to push it. I loved my brother and being the "fixer" I am, not being able to "fix" him and to be faced with what eventually he succumbed to really makes me have this overwhelming feeling of defeat.