Sitting on the sidelines

A Warwick student shares their personal struggle with having a sibling suffering from mental health issues

There have been many articles written on what it is like to experience depression and anxiety as a student, which is wonderful and will hopefully help combat the stigma surrounding mental illness. However, I have never come across an article discussing what it is like to have a very close family member struggle with depression and attempt suicide while you remain mentally ‘healthy’.

As someone who doesn’t struggle with mental illness it is impossible to empathise with those who do…

My brother attempted to commit suicide on two occasions while he was undergoing counselling and taking antidepressants; he is diagnosed with severe depression and OCD. This happened just a few months after my grandmother had also attempted suicide.

My family is predisposed to mental illness both maternally and paternally. However, as someone who doesn’t struggle with mental illness it is impossible to empathise with those who do – you can only offer sympathy but never fully understand.

I am no longer his little sister, and he is no longer my big brother, a new dynamic has formed…

When I received a phone call to say that my big brother was in A&E because he had attempted to end his life I honestly couldn’t process it. It was only when I saw him in the hospital that our relationship changed.

I am no longer his little sister, and he is no longer my big brother, a new dynamic has formed where I can’t help but feel incredibly responsible for his welfare. If we have an argument now, I am so crippled with guilt and worry for how he may internalise things I said in the heat of the moment.

I could only see the way he interacted with the world as ways he could try to harm himself…

Following my brother’s suicide attempt he came home from university without sitting his exams that year, and I spent my summer holidays on suicide watch, which was a condition of him not being sectioned. ‘Suicide watch’, as I’ve rather crassly referred to it, entails tracking the mental stability of someone you live with, while simultaneously trying not to smother them.

I barely slept for the next few months, because I could only see the way he interacted with the world as ways he could try to harm himself. Why has he been in the bathroom so long? What if he drinks the mouthwash? What if he smashes the light bulb and uses it to hurt himself? It was endless and exhausting; I was consumed with panic every time he shut his bedroom door.

Even though I am mentally healthy, I experienced something akin to a grieving process for my near loss….

I had to have counselling, but I was unable to tell my parents or family, because I didn’t feel like I could put them through any more stress.

I still worry every single day about my brother, because while I am away at university living in a bubble of lectures and library sessions, someone I care about very deeply could be in pain and not reaching out.

You aren’t responsible for their mental health. At the end of the day, all you can do is love them…

Sometimes I think about my brother on a night out, and immediately feel guilty for grinding with friends in a grimy club and drinking tequila when he could be obsessively praying. I try not to let it distract from university life too much, but mentally it is an uphill struggle of worry.

I do wish people spoke more about the impact mental illness has on the family as a whole, as sometimes it feels like you carry their burden with them. However, my advice to anyone in a similar position to me is to remember that you have very little control over their situation. You must bear in mind that you aren’t responsible for their mental health. At the end of the day, all you can do is love them.