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Last Thursday my brother was institutionalized for evaluation. He is bi-polar with schizo-affective disorder and psychosis and decided that he was thinking clearer after he stopped taking his medications. (Straight out of "A Beautiful Mind," if you ask me. . .) However, this was not the cause of his institutionalization. That wouldn't be good enough. Technically, just because he's a manic a$$-hole doesn't make him a threat, and therefore the Mental Health Department doesn't give a damn. Finally, he confided in me his frequent thoughts of drinking bleach and anti-freeze and I passed this news along to my mother which finally landed him in a 72-hour evaluation. By Sunday, he was like a celebrity due to his charming and manipulative nature and my father picked him up yesterday morning. Now that he's back at home, nothing has changed. NOTHING!! He's still a manic jerk and my mother is still stressed out, and of course, I'm the only one who listens to her. Last night, my parents and my brother had a huge argument, and, while I wasn't made to leave the room and forced out of everything like I usually am, I was forced to stay and listen to everything. I sat under a table in the corner, curled up, popping Hershey's Kisses like they were pills, and crying, trying not to make myself seen or heard, because all I ever seem to do is make matters worse. I couldn't stop the tears. In my head, I was screaming at them all to just stop it all and go to bed, but I wouldn't dare say such things aloud. I'm better off just being the fly on the wall. Sometimes, I wish I didn't even have a mouth, so I wouldn't have to worry about being so outspoken, so that I'd never be able to blurt in and kibitz on their arguments and conversations alike. All I do is aggravate them. No wonder I feel neglected. I've been such a selfish little brat, making all of these family issues that are entirely out of my control all about me. I want to disappear. That way, I could never disturb them again, never take their attentions and energies away from the important things around here. Things such as my brother, and the day-care kids, and CDs and computer programs, and that damned hi-def TV. Anyways, for any who have actually taken the time to read this, thank you for spending a moment on a pathetic, grieving little girl. May your day be more pleasant than mine.