I rang mom and dad’s doorbell and it took mom forever to come to the door tonight. I should have called first. Mom was sound asleep. I almost unlocked the door and walked in, but that would have scared mom to death this late in the evening.
“I thought you were Brother Ed and almost didn’t answer the door,” mom told me.
I smiled. Ah, evangelical Brother Ed. Now that brings back memories. He needs to be on Risperdal or Zyprexa as well. He was my grandmother’s pastor and has made it his passionate mission to save my parent’s souls. He gave up on me early.
“Here’s the key to the backdoor,” I told mom.
“What’s wrong?” mom asked, looking concerned.
She had given me the key a few weeks ago when they were out of town and I was feeding their animals. She never got it back.
“Mom, I will be honest,” I replied. “You have a fridge full of wine and I am at a particularly weak point in my sobriety. I don’t want any temptations for awhile.”
“Oh, okay,” she said nonchalantly as if I had just told her the weather. I expected more of a reaction. “I forgot you even had that key.”
I told mom goodnight and to not to forget to put my cokes out. I drove home with a feeling of relief wafting over me. My drinking yesterday seemed to set forth this explosive chain reaction in my body and brain with regards to alcohol cravings. They were in full force – dangerously full force.
One of the first things people notice about mental illnesses is abhorrent behavior. We are extremely social creatures and when someone doesn’t “play nice” then there are repercussions. Most times, people with the means are put on medications to help. Or hinder? I sometimes think many medications can be prescribed as a means of social control and not actually treating an illness. Notice my comment above about Brother Ed and his religiosity with regards to Risperdal and Zyprexa. I do it, too.
I think that’s dad’s main motive with regards to my mother and I. He is probably one of the most responsible men on this planet and can’t just cast us aside like so many mentally people get done to them by their families. Dad makes sure we’re amply medicated and complacent so that he can live with us. He has often said, “I’d leave your mother if she stopped taking her medications. I couldn’t go through that again.” When mom is on her medications she is dull, complacent and manageable. She also sleeps all the time. I am lucky in that I only initially feel drowsiness after my injection. The drowsiness quickly goes away. The reason I get my Risperdal in injection form is that I have been notoriously noncompliant with my medications over the years and it drove dad crazy. When they started offering Risperdal as an injection a few years ago, dad jumped for joy. He knew he would have a guaranteed two weeks of peace and not the “interesting” behavior I was known for.