There’s a particular kind of silence that anyone caring for a loved one learns to recognize. When it arises, you know immediately that it’s not anger. Hostility isn’t to blame. Neither is sorrow or grief. But for some reason, that day, the person you love started saying less and less, until a whole day may pass with only a few short words exchanged.
A.W. Fernandez knows that silence well. For two decades, he has cared for his younger brother who lives with schizophrenia. Together, they’ve built a TikTok channel (@awfernandez) with more than 258,000 followers and four million likes. Here, they document moments of daily life, sharing emotional glimpses into a relationship destabilized by mental illness.
At times, the videos are difficult to watch (in one, Fernandez recreates the voices his brother hears in his head), but they’re clearly communicating an important message. And his brother, as Fernandez tells it, wants us to know their story. “I made a promise to him,” Fernandez says in another video. “I’m not good at much, so I’ll tell our story… in the most fantastical, honest way. Our voices will be heard and people will get to see the otherworldly battles we’ve faced.”
So when his brother’s speech starts to disappear, Fernandez doesn’t push. He already knows the drill: he grabs their hiking shoes.
The symptom no one warns you about 
The word for what’s happening is alogia, or what’s often called “poverty of speech.” Science lacks a single, clear-cut explanation for why it occurs, but the symptoms are unmistakable: individuals experiencing alogia increasingly struggle with words until the ability to communicate through language falls apart completely.
This goes beyond natural shyness or introversion: alogia is categorized by a noticeable change in a person’s communication style, particularly when it leads to distress or gets in the way of relationships, self-advocacy, school, work, or care.
When you ask a neurotypical person, “What did you do today?” they might rattle off a laundry list of items. Someone experiencing alogia, on the other hand, might manage only “No” or “I don’t know,” in a monotone voice interrupted by long, labored pauses.
It’s one of the negative symptoms of schizophrenia, which means it takes something away (motivation, expression, words themselves) rather than adds (like hallucinations, which are an “extra” experience).
A walk, a game, and a swim 
When his brother stops talking, Fernandez’s response is simple. He drives to the nearest mountains and they start to hike.
He points out plants and asks his brother to spot the differences between them, turning the trail into a game. The idea is to pull his brother’s attention into the physical world and away from the voices and worry by focusing on the small things in front of them. With each step, his brother’s attention shifts to the nature surrounding him. “Feelings of having to socially ‘be someone’ and say the right things slowly fade,” Fernandez narrates. He then shows us a flower, noting, “Now, he’s asking questions like, ‘Think that smells good?’ and I show him it does!”
Throughout the walk, Fernandez intentionally hangs back a few steps to allow his brother to discover new things. Being the discoverer is its own reward. Spotting a pile of horse droppings on the trail, his brother turns and warns him, “There’s a monster dump ahead of you, watch out!”
They finish at a rock pool and swim. “Swimming there restored at least an extra day of life to us both,” Fernandez wrote. “Being in nature…helps people living with psychosis focus more on the external world than their internal struggles.”
A pact between brothers
This isn’t a simple, feel-good story. There are elements that are lovely to watch, like brothers reconnecting despite the circumstances, but Fernandez also wants you to see the parts that aren’t. He’s open about his grief and the ways his brothers’ condition has profoundly impacted his own life. In a video called “My brother lives with schizophrenia, and this is how caring for him destroyed me, then saved me,” he describes how his pain (“it felt like I lost my best friend, grieving someone still alive”) led him towards deeper empathy for his brother and the advocacy that’s become his life’s work. “No, schizophrenia isn’t a gift, but it shows us truths about the universe and humanity if we’re willing to step into someone’s world,” he writes. “But my life has more meaning. I can’t invent cures, but I can show people a path and have the tough conversations.”
A door that’s always open 
Even if your circumstances look different than A.W. Fernandez’s, his videos offer nuggets of wisdom anyone can fold into their life.
When someone you love goes quiet, for example, stop putting pressure on yourself to find the “perfect” words. Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is see them and take the proper time to learn what they’re facing. Then, maybe go on a walk.
