A rush of emotions overcame me as I walked through the doors of the mental hospital . Just 15 months older than me, we grew up as best friends. Sure, he picked on me..but that’s what older brothers do. As we got older the fights got worse and we grew apart. He was always smarter, more athletic, and way braver than I was. But I didn’t want to be like him.

July of 2011. That summer I was the unlucky passenger on an emotional roller coaster. A rude awakening struck me as I watched my older brother driven away in a police car. My sheltered life wasn’t all I made it out to be. Strength took over as I saw the fear in my little brother’s eyes. I had to be strong for him; he was the one who had to make the call. Then, there was my mom. The sweetest lady, with the biggest heart – devastated with sadness. How could one person bring so much heartache to a family in a matter of hours? Every bad quality took over and turned him into someone I didn’t know. The brother I knew would never have threatened to take his own life. I didn’t want to be like him.

As hard as those three days were for my family, they were even harder for my brother. Forced to accept that he needed to change his life, he grew up. Proud of his transformation I was there for him. We went back to the childhood days of getting along. He was getting better , but still – I didn’t want to be like him.

After being torn apart by my brother for so long, turns out I was the one picking him up from his rock bottom. He’s the reason I am who I am today. Not wanting to live a life like he did I made my own path. I am nothing like him.