Friday, May 7, 2010

My Thoughts at the End of the Blogging Day…

There’s a Difference…

There’s a difference in dad these past few episodes of mental illness I have experienced.  He is kinder, gentler and far, far more forgiving of my foibles.  He is quick to tell me he loves me and Johnny-on-the-spot about getting me medical attention. 

“You need cigarettes?  Don’t you?” dad just called and asked.  “It’s been a week since you last asked for any.  And be sure to drive over to go get your diet Cokes tonight.  It is driving your mother crazy that you haven’t gotten them in days.”

I talked for a minute and dad interrupted and said, “Thank God!  You sound like a different man.  You’re coherent now!  I don’t think you realized it, but you were talking some crazy and wacky stuff for a few days there.”

“What makes you so want to be homeless when you get like that?” dad then asked. “You have such a nice, comfortable home.”

“It’s my social anxieties,” I replied. “Out in the woods is where no one could find me.  The phone wouldn’t ring and the constant knocking at my home’s door would stop.  I could relax knowing I was a safe human free space for the most part.”

“Well, I am just glad you’re better.  You sound so different.  I will bring your cigarettes tonight.  I love you,” dad said in closing. 

Dad’s usual reaction when I get mentally ill is to search my home for signs of beer or over the counter medications.  He didn’t do that this time.  We both talked about how hard I have been trying with regards to my addictions – that I have been religiously going to AA up until I had this recent episode with my schizophrenia.   We both remarked about how my life used to be constantly like it was these past few days years ago – that I had much more mentally ill days than I did good days.   So there is hope and I hope I am getting better.   We all now know how to better react when these situations arise – no screaming and hollering.  No accusations of untoward doings.   Just simply getting medical attention as promptly as possible before things get worse or spiral out of control.   

Warning Will Robinson!

This is how crazy my mind works sometimes.  My psychiatrist weighed me during Wednesday’s emergency visit.  I weighed 186 pounds.  My last visit three months ago, I weighed 167.  I was extremely mentally ill and still freaked out about my weight.   Dad was just ecstatic.  My bulimia for some reason hits a sore spot with him and he worries about it deeply.   All I could think about was that I was getting fat again.  At one time in my life, I weighed 277 pounds at it’s highest.  I was a chunk!  So I have been obsessing today about my weight.  I have cut my portion sizes in  half and have put myself on a diet.  I am going to have delicately break it to my doctor that weighing with every visit is not a good idea for someone who struggles with bulimia.  It freaks us out!

Miss My Camera!

The part I need for my camera is only around ten to twenty bucks so why do I still not have a working camera?   Because it is an extreme hassle to get dad to get “The Girls” to order it for me.  I talked to dad before this recent episode of mental illness and he said he would order the part.  I just have to get it together enough to write down the item number on piece of paper so he can get Tricia down at the pharmacy to order it.  I could be dastardly and get mom involved.  But that would certainly piss dad off.  LOL   Mom is so obsessive compulsive about such things that she wouldn’t let my father rest until the part got here and was in my hands.  She thinks we have already gotten the part at Wal-Mart the other week.

5 comments:

This IS The Fun Part! said...

As much as I hate to agree with your dad, you do sound better - even from your post earlier today! It's like a little more of 'you' is coming out. Hope you can feel my smile!

You really should be proud of yourself for being able to deal with all of this with such a calm and mature attitude. You're just amazing!

Make a "DO NOT DISTURB" sign, seal it in a zip-lock bag and tape it to your front door! Maybe people will leave you alone. Let the answering machine 'screen' your calls - only answer the ones you want to. YOU can be in charge of it.

Love,
Grannie

forsythia said...

Andrew, I belong to a church that helps run a winter shelter for homeless men and women in Laurel, MD. It never dawned on me until I read your blog that many guests at our shelter could suffer from social anxiety. Thank you for giving me this insight.

justLacey said...

So glad you are feeling better. I was worried, but know sometimes you have these episodes to contend with. I am glad that things got back on track so quickly and wish you a safe and quiet weekend.

Cheryl said...

I'm so glad the extra meds have made such a difference. Life sounds good today. One day at a time is the only way to go...right?

Joy Heather said...

Hi Andrew, glad you are feeling better..it was a good idea of 'Grannie' to put a 'do not disturb' sign on your front door...we all have times when we just want to be alone especially if we have anxieties ( been there myself lots of times)..Its so good your Dad is understanding even more. I do hope you get your camera fixed very soon..i really miss your pictures...hugs to you and Maggie...Joy