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My brother is changed. A different person. Not, perhaps, for the better. In fact, not for the better. A new-found schizophrenic. In fact, it’s sad. Sometimes, I hate it. A lot of the time I hate it. And sometimes, I feel bad. I ALWAYS feel guilty. After all, you shouldn’t hate someone for something they can’t help. It’s not fair.
By Raechal on 02.05.2010
My brother lives in southern california while I live in northern california. I wish him happy birthdays, he does not wish me anything. He took it all, takes it all and knows it all. Boy, that felt good, to get that stuf out there. Whew!
By Michele on 02.05.2010
I miss my brother. I thought he was dead fr 6 years but then he turned up alive and in jail and needing money. He didn’t even say that he missed me or that he was sorry. He just wanted help and money.
I think I may finally be over my brother.
I’m almost 50.
By Moe on 02.05.2010
A brother, I wish I had had a brother. Maybe the pressure wouldn’t have been so bad to have a brother to help. Maybe he could have prevented all this in the first place. Maybe the lack of a son in the family started this all. A brother, would he have saved us from these problems, these devastations? Or, would he have turned out just like the rest of them? These thoughts surrounded and drowned me on my way to work. Walking in the door and smelling the new book filled air, I remembered. I didn’t matter. We can’t go back. I have everything I need here. Effy is my support, my therapy and now, I thank God for that every day.
By Mary on 02.05.2010
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.