Dad came by tonight to check on me. I had my lights off and was lying in the bed listening to The Golden Age of Radio broadcast over the internet. I heard my door unlock and he walked into my darkened den calling out to me. Maggie went totally apeshit crazy she was so excited to get some company. I had to jump out of the bed and pick her up to keep her from rushing outside when dad opened my backdoor. She would have stayed out all night if I hadn’t to have acted quickly. It would devastate me if something were to happen to her. I couldn’t live without her.
“What’s going on?” Dad said as he went immediately to my refrigerator to check for beer. “It’s not like you to have your lights off so early. It just seems strange. I hope you are not drinking.”
“I was just lying in the bed listening to the radio,” I replied. “You can smell my breath for alcohol.”
Dad had me blow on his face to do our customary alcohol check. He had also brought this week’s medications carefully packed in their bubble pack.
“I want you to take this lithium and let’s see if it will stabilize your moods and stop these bad days you seem to have cyclically,” He told me. “Promise me you are going to take it.”
I took lithium years ago and it always upset my stomach. My father was concerned I wouldn’t take it because of that side effect.
“I promise,” I replied.
“Give me a hug,” Dad then said as he wrapped his arms around me. “We are going to keep trying till we find the right medications and get you well.”
I walked out upon my driveway as I waved at dad as he drove off. I worried tonight about a comment Dorid had written me earlier in the day about me writing on that post about Dad treating me as if I am retarded and not mentally ill. It has troubled me deeply tonight. That was a terrible thing to write and no person cares about me more than my father. He has stuck by me through thick and thin, and terrible times dealing with my illness. He worked 12 hours today and still took the time to bring me my medications, check on me, and to make sure I was sober. I realize I am truly blessed to have such a father and should not be so callous with the words I write upon this blog about him. Yes, he can treat me like a small child sometimes, but I have been known to act like one as well.