Witness to Withness

Out of the Fog

         A primary vision for future healing was epitomized in one event. My brother Kurt was troubled. It was a Sunday in the winter months. He was staying at home, although for the life of me I do not even remember him being there. I was too caught up in the depressive fog. It was unusual because a good deal of his life was spent in hospitals for the mentally ill. Schizophrenia was a label that had been pasted on to him and this left him in a kind of virtual no man's land.

         It was winter. Something was different about this Sunday. Kurt woke up and started hearing voices telling him to go out into the woods to disarm a bomb. It was a sight to behold. He was outside in his bare feet and would not listen to reason. I watched in a state of internal horror. He had been my project, since he was diagnosed as mentally ill. I hoped I could help him get out from under his illness, because I knew/believed there was another side to him. I recall his favor amongst family, athletic prowess and extroverted nature. Kurt's illness made no sense to me. He was a year younger and since he roomed with me I thought I could stop his funk. I watched as he headed out in the woods, a place I knew as one of cathartic renewal. He kept going back and forth, on occasion entering the house. At one point, while my dad was in the basement there was a confrontation and Kurt kicked him in the side. Kurt was out of control. The police were contacted. In those days there was no where else we could get help.

         The police arrived. I was feeling something. It was something that transcended my depressive stupor. I was scared of something happening to someone besides myself. The police got there. Kurt was anything but cooperative. He went into a "Kung fu" persona. He assaulted a policeman and he was put in handcuffs and was being sent to the city jail. I made all manner of ugly sounds that sounded like I was genuinely concerned. My dad was yelling at others in the room to get me out of there. As I looked out the window I was surer than anything that happened up to that day that I was headed for hell. I ruminated about that. I could not see any other choice for a God who had seen me in such a helpless/hopeless state. I was headed for hell and it was my own damn fault and it really did not matter what I had done before. I was never getting out. To this day I wonder if in some strange way this paralleled my perception of my brother's before and after enigma.