When I was about to graduated from high school, my father's mental illness became worse. He would talk to himself, he had a problem staying connected with reality, and sometimes he would just wander off mentally, staring off into space. We didn't know what to do, we didn't want to commit him, though his psychiatrist highly recommended him, but we didn't want him to get worse either. He was adamant about not going, and so we figured we wouldn't force him, but it was becoming apparent that we might just have had to do that. Even if he had to go in a straightjacket.