Depression

Well, any mental illness really.... I hate them all. I just don't know sometimes how to help/cope/exist in a space with other people's mental illnesses. The issue isn't the illness in my book... the issue is when the illness is not dealt with. Being passive about your sickness, blaming others, and then getting upset when they can't support you is a recipe for disaster. I try to keep my anger and emotions out of the discussion when things like this come up (attempting really hard to not say, "How do you think that makes me feel?!?"). I just don't know how to help when others won't help themselves. I often feel trapped in my family's nonsense, and I sure feel trapped right now. Trapped in a place where I can't say the right thing because I know that, in time, the right thing will reveal itself for this person. I just can't be the punching bag for someone else's emotions when those emotions are caused by (1) a lack of responsibility; (2) dealing in crisis mode; (3) being selfish; and (4) not taking their disease seriously.

I am at all new level of frustrated right now-- I feel as though just as my life is coming together, things are, well, falling apart around me. I don't want to be trapped. And I would like depression to take his little friend grief and get the hell out of my existence.

Charges Being Brought In Brother's Case

Today this article was released by the Everett Herald about my brother Trenton. It's interesting, my reaction. At first, I am just so sad because I miss him. And I know that we will never have the chance to really get to know each other as adults. And I am sad that he was taken away. But then, I just feel so bad for the driver's family as well. I wish them peace. I do believe in a very poetic sense of justice in all of this ... meaning that he should pay for killing my brother, but I hate to see another family be torn apart. I would like to meet him, actually, this man who ripped my whole life wide open. I would like to meet him to tell him that I forgive him. That I am sorry that this happened to him. That I hate the choice he made that day, but that I don't hate him. That this too shall pass. But, I am no saint... I also want him to have to look at my face that is so similar to that of my brother's... I also want to ask him why he ignored medical advice and why he tried to keep this all hidden. Grief. You are still such a sneaky bastard.