Sunday, October 11, 2009

Moody's Got the Blues...

Yesterday I was sitting in dad's den as he watched the Bama game. 

"Why are you so quiet?" he asked as I sat with my head hung low. "You're on one of your mental illness cycles."

"Can't I just feel emotion without it being a symptom of my mental illness?" I asked sincerely.

It offended him.  

I had asked for six more Diet Cokes and dad firmly and almost vehemently said no.  I didn't want to use my cherished $20 dollars from Mrs. Florene when mom had 20 cases of cokes in the basement.  My parent's control of me seems to be tightening over time and not lessening.  Dad says I get "high" off the caffeine in the drinks.  He only sees me fifteen minutes a day so how would he know?  We've had several uneventful years as far as I am concerned, the drinking, and my "episodes," and I would think things would be improving as far as my autonomy is concerned.  It has not.

Dad gave me my medications.  I took them and sat quietly.  He was quiet as well.  My fifteen minutes was up and dad said I could go.  Dad locked the door as I left.

The first thing I did when I got home was get on the computer.  I emailed a trusted friend about this and it made me feel better.  "It is hard to believe I am 37 years old!" I wrote my trusted friend.   She wrote me back within minutes and said, "Leave!  Sell all your shit and get out of there! You don't have to live that way!"  It was rash, but I entertained the thought.  I've often thought of putting a sign in my front yard saying, "Everything in the house is for sale!  Name your price!"  I would get enough money to leave town, m0ve to Nashville, and sleep and live in the Rescue Mission.  Sometimes, it seems my freedom is so wanted and so coveted that I want to go to almost any length to re-attain it.  Even homelessness seems a better alternative. 

Later in the day, my father pulled up in front of my house.  I opened the door which is our custom so Maggie can see him, and he was smiling as he walked through my yard. 

"Here's you some cokes, a carton of cigarettes, and some supper. I cooked just for you," he told me as I stood at the door.  "I love you, son.  I hope this makes you feel better."

I was shocked.  My father is not prone to do such things for me.  I am rarely thought of by him unless it is time to take my medications which is a way he uses to modify my behavior.  Well, it made the evening much better.  It was a reprieve in the storm.   I could then drink my cokes as I smoked cigarette after cigarette due to this windfall.  I usually have to ration them they've gotten so expensive.   There is good in my father, but he can be a hard man.  Especially when it concerns me.  He's given me so much over the years, yet he has taken so much away.  I am conflicted by it all and his show of concern yesterday evening. 


Cheryl said...

Hi Andrew. I read this and made a conscience decision NOT to give advice. I know you love your parents and need them. I know they love you and need you. There are good times and bad, and hopefully more good than bad.

It's a beautiful day in MD. I found a friend to take a day trip with me and I'm about to get ready. I wanted to stop by and say hello. I posted to my blog this morning. Thanks for the prompt on FB!

I hope your Sunday finds a simple pleasure in it that brings a smile to your face!

Diana said...

It just sounds like your father is controlling and feels powerful because he can say "no", as he would to a child. Then he feels guilty and tries to "make up". How do I know this? Because I am embarrassed to say I am the same way with my grown daughter. She is only 21. I find it hard to remember that I need to treat her with the respect we all deserve when that "NO" comes out. Then I go overboard making it up to her. I am working on this myself. I'm not giving you advice just maybe saying it isn't just YOU that has the problem. Your parents are guilty too. I know you love them and they love you. Life is complicated. Be well.

Gary said...

Hi Andrew,
If my parents had of said no the many times in my life where they chose instead to say nothing at all I could only imagine the pain and grief I might have saved myself from going through. I realise your Dad believes in tough love.
I would have been grateful for even the smallest show of affection from my father. He passed away many years ago and all I have is a few good memories. I hope I don't sound too preachy.
Take Care,

Lynx217 said...

Safe to say Andrew, those of us who have lost our parents have a different perspective than those who still have at least one of them living. Please take this much to heart: it's obvious your dad loves you. He just doesn't always know how to show it or show it right. Patience my friend. Doing things on a whim can get you in much more serious trouble than perhaps you realize. *hugs* be well my friend!

Joy Heather said...

Hi Andrew..i dont know you very well, and yet i think i understand you a little from your blog..but what i do understand (as i am a 62 year old mom & grandmom) that our 'kids' are always our kids no matter how old they are..i think i could be in danger of been a little bit controlling, out of pure love for my kids ( the youngest is now 33 another 36 and my oldest 40)..but my kids would NOT allow that...they will always tell me if i am over doing the maternal bit, they know i love them & i know they love me..however respect is a mutual thing, your Dad did good to come & do what he did to make amends, bless him....that took courage & love..Dont be too hard on him, but dont be afraid to tell him if he goes over the top with the heavy parenting firm but kind, he will appreciate that i am sound a lovely family.

(M)ary said...

"Can't I just feel emotion without it being a symptom of my mental illness?" I asked sincerely.

that is valid question! controlling a mental illness with medicine does not mean that all emotions cease to exist. emotions are a part of life and we all have ups and downs regardless of a mental health diagnosis.