We all have in some form of fashion dealt with mental health illnesses. For me, my experience began as a child. Growing up, I had a beloved uncle whom my younger brother and I spent a large amount of time with. He was extremely helpful to my mother and would sometimes go on family trips with us. I can remember always loving the way he smiled and laughed. In my younger years, he resided in a group home in a city that was about an hour away from us. When I was a little older, my uncle was released from the group home and returned to my grandmother’ s house. For the first year or so, everything appeared great with my uncle. He still continued to attend family events and assist my mother as much as he could. As the years progressed, my uncle began to unravel. He battled with substance abuse issues and was in and out of treatment programs. During these times, it also became apparent that my uncle suffered from far more than just substance abuse issues. I began to see him talk to and respond to voices that no one else could hear. I would see him walk for miles and miles without stopping. My mother seemed be one of the only individuals that my uncle trusted. She could get him to take his medications or quiet down if the voices were getting violent. My mother could even get my uncle to attend treatment at times. When my uncle was in these states, he trusted no one, except my mother. As I grew older, she finally shared with me that my uncle had Schizophrenia. This was one of my first experiences with mental health. My beloved uncle is no longer living, but I wish I had offered more understanding and support to him during the times he felt so alone.