Letter: Are we our brother's keeper?

I met him almost 50 years ago when we both worked at a large state psychiatric hospital. He was friendly and helped to show me the ropes after I was hired. He was a kind man who related well to the patients.

He seemed a bit lonely, lived with his parents, and had no close friends. He did well on the job ... until he didn't. I don't know exactly what happened, but there was an incident when he had a violent outburst toward a patient and was immediately terminated from his job. This set things in motion for his long decline.

I tried to stay in touch, but he was so emotionally needy I found our visits to be exhausting. l moved on, married and raised a family with my wife. He continued to drift unmoored and live with his parents. And when they both died about 25 years ago, his decline accelerated even faster.

He began to present as paranoid and angry and would project his anger on the few friends that he had, including me. His unwell mind convinced him that he could not really trust anyone.

He now lives in a nursing home. His physical health has mirrored his mental health into decline. I try to stay in touch, but our visits often go awry when he lashes out at me, blaming me for the many losses in his life.

His life has been a sad series of trauma and loss, beginning in childhood. I suspect his story is not unique. Much can be said about the lack of mental health care that may have helped him along the way, and that is indeed a national shame. But what about how we relate to others that are suffering? Cruelty, insensitivity, bullying, and forced isolation can literally destroy a life.

Greg Newlin

Aurora