I debated bringing this here for a few days, but I have some of my old school people who read me, Bad Cheddar, Tony…
So, a few days ago they found one of my oldest people dead. Get this shit. In a gas station bathroom, suspected fentanyl death. His ex-wife is my homegirl of almost 30 years. She’s tore up.
It was their son’s 16th birthday.
Dude. I’ve been in a way about it since. This is why…
He was schizophrenic. And we were friends as it was setting in. He was Ty’s best friend for years; Carrie and I are still sisters. But, as he got sicker and refused help, and got very violent with her, of course, Ty distanced himself.
I did too. He put that girl through some shit, but I know it was the illness. Before he got sick, man, he was the dude that would give you the shirt off his back. Literally, and then he became a prisoner of his mind.
They divorced, she remarried, gave the baby a decent life because he couldn’t. And now this shit. Care Bear, the goddamned hits just keep coming sis. Hunker the fuck down.
I’ll tell you, thinking back on watching Keith progress into his illness, I should have recognized the signs when I watched someone else devolving. But the situation was so much different then, and it makes me feel so bad for not staying up in someone’s beeswax back then, because it must have really been some horrible shit for Carrie. And she had a baby in the home, too, under 5 while they were still living together.
Goddamn. She really probably needed someone. That’s some fuckery to deal with on your own.
And my boy, so far fucking gone, he’s getting high in gas station bathrooms, self-medicating because the fucking CIA was bugging his room, no doubt, he lived in the fucking miniblinds back when it first started to rear its head.
I mean, paranoia off the fucking charts, and I hang out with soldiers with PTSD. This shit was whoa. So bad Ty and I couldn’t handle it. It was too much. He was so sure it was real, and we knew he was sick, but not this sick.
And now dead at 45 because of it.
Some Project Pat for you, Keith. Like we were riding in the Skittle again, like the old days. I hope it’s the old days for you again, bro. I love you.
I’m so sorry, honey. So very sorry. Mental illness is a horrific thing and we as a country do nothing to help those in need. My love to you.
Very sorry for you, and your friend's family! It's 2023, and somehow America is still not able to deal with people with mental health issues properly. Damn shame.