Bryce's Call to OSH
When I was in Ohio state hospital for the second time in my early to mid-twenties I was entrapped by not just my words, but the actions of others. The first time it was my brother, the second time a single five-minute visit with a counselor, but for now let me tell you what my brother did. For some background, my brother was almost thirty years old and would drink 10 beers a night or more along with shots of whiskey, yet for some reason the people at the hospital took his word over mine.
After I had spent a month at OSH and I felt better I was ready to go and the days before potential discharge I called my brother Bryce and told him that my original plan before arriving at Ohio state hospital was to wait until I got my financial aid from ST then send it to him in full and then off myself so that prior to my death he would get some money. This was in the evening so of course he would be drunk so when I told him "That was my plan before I got here." He decided to twist my words telling the hospital staff "this is his plan right here and now." This would confine me to OSH for another month after already spending over 30 days trapped there. You see the way the system works is that not a single person can be released unless they are approved by the primary psychologist. He has all the power on your stay as well as medication regiment.
Anyways after my phone call with Bryce, he called the hospital and told them that "my brother has a plan to kill himself as soon as he gets out." I have come to the conclusion that he did this purposely to exhibit control over me like he was the admirable father and I the shameful son. The next day when I was about to get ready to leave and be discharged the doctor told me in what would have been our final meeting that he would not release me because of what my brother had told him. These people believed a drunken man, taking his words as gold despite their fragile broken reality.
When I would approach my brother on maybe three of more occasions later in life that the fact that because of him and his drunken stupidity I was imprisoned he would say "oh, I thought I was helping you." Not once in the entirety of my life knowing Bryce Greenwelle has he ever tried nor succeeded in helping me in any way. To this day he hates his own siblings and accepts false reality even in the absence of any logical evidence.
I and my sister in my late twenties her thirty have done nothing but given him anything he may have needed to find peace, yet no matter how much we helped him he refuses to acknowledge it. My sister and I are not alone in his subjection of selfishness. In his early thirties he totaled my grandparents new Chevy Malibu and never apologized. This was when I was in Ohio but I was told probably a thousand times by my grandfather that Bryce never apologized. Then my grandparents not only gave him money after he shot himself in the foot and couldn't work, but gave him $4,000 as a down payment on a house he never paid back, not even a single dime.