My dad called and texted. He’s been trying to reach out the last few days, but I haven’t been up to talking to him and didn’t know if it was in my best interest to talk to him. But I caved.
He fell on a curb yesterday and thought he broke his ribs. So, he went to the VA’s emergency room. On top of his blood pressure being out of control, since the crew that disposed of their stuff during the eviction took all of his meds as well as all of his clothes, his wallet, and all the family photos.
Well, before he could be admitted to the hospital, my mom through a gigantic hissy fit – full of the traditional dance of my people (screaming, throwing things, firing insults left and right). She had him sign out Against Medical Advice. A stunt she also pulled on Friday, apparently, under the same circumstances.
Well, my dad asked that I call the social worker and “give my perspective on things with my mother.” So, I did. And, the conversation went something like this:
Me: My dad asked me to call…
Her: (his name)?
Me: Yes, he wanted you to tell me about my mom.
Her: I figured your mom out pretty quick.
Me: She’s refusing medication. She’s bipolar 1 and has a psychotic disorder nos.
Her: I got that. She was very obviously symptomatic.
Her: But your dad is aware and capable of making his own decisions.
Me: Right, but instead he does what my mom tells him.
Her: Correct. Is she you biological mother?
Her: I’m so very sorry.
Me: Alright, well I did what he asked me to do.
Her: You did. I’m sorry. I’m sure I will be seeing him again soon.
Me: I’m sure you will. Thank you.
It’s not like she does a good job of hiding it. I guess he just wanted me to apologize on our family’s behalf. I’m getting tired of making excuses and apologizing all the time for something I didn’t even do.
On the other side: I feel less like a zombie today, but my hands are shaking really bad and I feel extremely awkward. Like the first time in a long time where I’m actually inside my body and I don’t like it.