My brother was a chronic schizophrenic most of his life—from the time he was a teen until the day he died in 2003, at age 44. My family would always take him places around other family members, and strangers too. We didn't keep him locked up in the house away from people. There were family and strangers who were afraid of him. They thought they'd “catch” what he had. It hurt us, but, we loved him. Our life was filled with stress, but also with love. He knew he was loved.