People always said my kind and artsy brother was a little different when we were kids – but, he was funny, so it was alright. I saw the sarcastic and funny person that others saw, but in parallel, I saw struggles he battled along the way. As various painful events began to unfold, it started to become clear that what he was feeling was not what he wanted, it was a true disease.
Recently, my brother has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and depression after years of misdiagnoses. I’ve never shared much of what our family battles because of the stigma against mental health disorders. Screw stigma. Let me tell you that my brother is fighting just like almost any other patient in the hospital. He, and everyone else fighting mental health issues, deserves support to help them with these battles. Things haven't been easy, and he hasn't been perfect, but much like running, we’re both putting our best foot forward and trying.
This November I am running my first marathon (most jaws will drop now...I hate running) in Richmond, VA. Normally I'd ask that you buy me a drink after, maybe give me a massage, but I am asking you to please help me raise money for the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance to support my brother and anyone else fighting mental health issues. Believe in me just as much as I believe in my brother…which is a whole lot.