Tag: bipolar disorder

How Can I Help You to Say Goodbye

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders

How Can I Help You Say Goodbye

I have been staring at a legal pad, wanting to write, for the past hour. I have several things to write about or thoughts to jot down but nothing seems to come to me once I grab hold of the pen. The last several hours have been difficult. I have gone from being in a good mood, to being in a mixed state, to feeling psychache, to feeling really sad and depressed. I am stuck in the depressed phase right now.

The movies of my father’s last hours keep floating around. Then I have the memories of the doctor appointments, hospital visits, visits to his home the last few months. How quickly he declined. There was no warning saying he was going to die when he did. In April, the prognosis of death was definite but we didn’t know when. They gave us a few weeks to a few months. It really wasn’t until two weeks ago that they really told us a week or less. And it was less. I got the phone call on April 19th his kidneys were shutting down and by the 25th, he was gone. Nothing more could be done for him, I got to keep telling myself that. He wouldn’t have wanted heroic measures, such as a feeding tube, to prolong his life. He lived a long life.

I don’t know why this is affecting me. I didn’t think I would have a reaction to his death. That may sound callous but he wasn’t the loving and dearest man on the planet. Up until he got really sick, I despised the man. I couldn’t stand being around him. And the night in the ER where I spent 12 hours with him, just for him to go against medical advice really pissed me off. And there was no point in arguing with him once his mind was made up. I remember wanting to write about the narcissism. But I couldn’t because everything that I read about it just pointed to him.

His being gone is making me sad and I have no explanation for it. I certainly didn’t prepare for it. But who really prepares for the death of a parent, whether they were good or bad? I think the good ones do their best to try and ease their children’s pain. There is a song that is by Laura Branigan about how a mother tries to ease her child’s pain through life’s disappointments and departures. The song is called, “How can I help you say goodbye”. My father never helped. He just made fun of you or smacked you when you had child’s disappointment and sadness. He would give you something to cry about.

I once had him on a pedestal. I think all children idolize their parents no matter how bad they are treated. That pedestal came crashing down the night he threatened to take someone’s life. My world was crushed. I no longer wanted to live in this world after that. It was way too painful. And when my father was told I wanted to kill myself, he kindly told me to jump off a bridge. Emotionally, I had to cut myself off from him. It didn’t happen overnight. But I became numb to his behavior towards me. He used to pick on me the worst of my sisters. He made fun of my weight, what I ate, how much I ate and the like. It’s amazing that I don’t have an eating disorder because of him. I just didn’t care. Psychologically, I know that it was the attention, no matter how negative it was, I was looking for. At least he was paying attention to me in his warped way.

He died surrounded by the only family he didn’t piss off, his daughters. Though there was a point where he thought my youngest sister and I were out to kill him. We should have known then that he was off or that his liver disease was getting worse. Yet no one thought to run an ammonia level on him. Hindsight is 20/20. Maybe if we had controlled this blood level, we could have prolonged his life a little more, to give us time to deal with his death a little better. I don’t know. I really thought he would live another year, tops. I had no clue he would have this downfall. And he was a pain in the ass until his mind was gone.

The grief is hard to process, there is no denying this. For those that read this blog daily, I need to write about this. I spent 40 years dealing with a narcissistic parent that spent more money on himself than for his kids. People have told me he loved us. I know that he was proud of us because he would show us off like we were his trophies. He carried a newspaper article that was written about me when I was in the eighth grade for years in his wallet. In addition to a picture of himself when he was 20, he also carried a wallet size pic of the three of us when we were younger. I think I was no more than eight in the picture. He would show it off when the three of us were at his doctor’s appointment.

I don’t know many people that carry pictures of themselves in their wallet. They might have pictures of themselves on their phones, but not their wallet or purse.

Interesting Day

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

Interesting day

My sister and I went to the Italian Consulate in Boston today to notify them of my father’s death. We needed to have the papers we brought translated so we weren’t able to do much. Monday I got to go to the lady’s place to have it translated. I reserved the zipcar so I can get there and possibly go food shopping afterwards. The office was nice. It was on the 17th floor and had a beautiful view of the harbor. Too bad it wasn’t a nice day; the view would have been better.

After we went there, my sister and I got something to eat at the train depot where they had a food court. I was familiar with it because I have been there many times, but my sister wasn’t. I had to get a coffee and can’t believe I spent $4 on an iced coffee at their Starbucks kiosk. What a rip off. I won’t be getting my coffee there anymore. They had a McDonalds and I finally had my Big Mac that I have been craving. It was so good. I probably won’t eat anything else for the rest of the day but least I had some food.

On the ride home, the “movie” started to play again. It was because my sister brought up that my grandfather (father’s father) looked exactly liked him when he, my father, passed. My middle sister made a copy of the picture for me. I still remember the ambulance ride to my father’s apartment and what it was like. I feel so sad. Then I remember the stupid clock of his going off and telling him he was home. He died soon after.

This all happened 10 days ago yet it might as well have been yesterday. I just hope the memories fade as time goes on. I don’t want to relive this stuff every day. It’s too painful.

I need to take a shower today. I don’t know when I will but it will be sometime before bed. I don’t have to do anything else today. Tomorrow morning I am having coffee with a friend. Another friend called me to invite me to see my friends that are south of Boston. I am not sure if I am up to going, only because nerve pain has been so bad lately and these trips tend to take a lot of energy out of me. It will be good to see my friends again and my adopted niece and nephew. I’ll have to think about it.

My psychiatrist called me last evening to check in with me. I was in better spirits. I think I am becoming hypomanic as I feel really good, aside from the occasional sadness I feel. I told her I need a refill on my Zoloft, which she still has not called in yet. This is why I wanted to meet with her yesterday because it takes her a few days to call in a refill, especially with the new system. I hope she calls it in soon because I will run out come this weekend. I just emailed her again.

4 May 2016

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

4 May 2016

My day started pretty early, like around midnight. I woke up to a thump and thought something happened to my mother. She was doing a colon prep for her colonoscopy and with her diabetes, I was worried. Once I realized she was okay, I tried to go back to sleep but failed miserably. I didn’t go back to sleep until around 0500. I emailed my psych to let her know I would be trying to see her but I might be a zombie. She said it was okay and to take care of myself. I was also to call her after 1600. I was sleeping and didn’t wake up until 1715. I paged her right away but I haven’t heard back from her yet.

Therapy was boring. We talked about the same shit we talked about yesterday. I told her that I can’t eat normally anymore. I had two pieces of toast and two boiled eggs and I was bloated. I have been eating smaller meals. I finished off the Thai food from yesterday and had some cheese. That was the last thing I ate before my nap. I kind of want a tuna sandwich but we are out of wheat bread. I have to do some shopping. I didn’t put in an online order this month because my appetite has been so awful. I still have my cereals and other food that I eat. I just don’t have bread and you can’t just order one thing online.

I told her about the “movie” I keep seeing of the last two hours of my father’s life. One day when I am up to it, I will blog about it. My psychiatrist thinks it’s an important processing. The more I talk/write about it the less power it will have over me and will fade with time. I still am trying to write out the word prompts from WordPress over the past few days. They had some really good ones but my brain has been fried with grief that I can’t think of what to write.

I think staying up all night kind of made me a little bit manic. I feel like I am in a good mood, despite the circumstances. I still feel relieved at my father’s passing. Tomorrow will be the first Thursday that I have to myself in quite sometime, though I have to do an errand with my sister. I just hope it doesn’t take all day.

I have been in pain most of the day. My ankle is just awful and the rain is not helping me one bit. I would have taken some pain meds before sleeping at 0500 but I thought I would be seeing my doc and I didn’t want to be more sleepy than I already was. I now just took my pain meds because I can’t stand the pain anymore. I’m about ready to go back to sleep. I hope I am not up all night again. That will suck so bad.

Rainy Therapy Tuesday

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders

Rainy therapy Tuesday

I went out to my therapist office today. I was early as I took the highway rather than the back roads. I went to Walmart and bought some more PJs. They were cheaper than Target. I also got some summer ones so I don’t have to worry about ordering them. I was tempted to buy more T-shirts because they were less than 5 bucks but I refrained. I have a shit load of them and my mother will kill me if I get more. Then after I paid for my stuff and went out to the parking lot, I forgot where I parked. I couldn’t find my car. I was getting panicky because the keys were visible. I don’t think I locked them in the box you put them in. I was two rows away from my car so no one stole it. It gave me a nice heart attack for a while.

Therapy went ok. I thought I was going to cry but I didn’t. I forgot to tell her about the movie playing in my head. I will tomorrow if I remember. All we did was talk about the wake and funeral. We also talked about the aunt that I hate that disrupted the wake line. That really pissed me off. Still pisses me off because she had no right to be at the wake to begin with. She hated my father. She didn’t even go up to the casket, damn bitch. Who goes to a wake and doesn’t pay respect to the dead? My dramatic aunt, who has to have the attention on her at all times. We also talked about the hospital. She said I could still go in if I wanted to. I will ask my psychiatrist tomorrow what she thinks.

We also talked about my writing and how hard blogging has become. Sometimes I can get off more than 500 words but lately, it’s been less than 400. And that is after three hours of trying. I just haven’t been in a “groove”. Most of the time, I start a blog and it takes me a long time to think of something, anything to write. I just stare at the blank screen or cursor after I wrote some stuff and nothing will come. I get distracted easily and my thoughts are just blank. It’s really tough because I don’t know if it’s the depression or grief that is making it hard to write.

I took the back roads home and barely made it on time back to the zipcar spot. I hit every fricken red light on the way home. It was ridiculous. I am glad I didn’t stop at McDonalds like I wanted to. I wanted to get a big Mac as I haven’t had one in years now. But I didn’t want to stop because I wanted to return the car on time. I did, however, stop to get a bottle of wine. I wanted a Mark West Pinot Noir but they didn’t have it. I got a more expensive wine that I wanted with my Thai food. I had the Thai food but had a coke instead. I want to save it when I have good Thai food or something I really like. Or just have a glass when I feel like having wine. It’s rare but I do crave a glass now and then.

Somehow on the way home, I lost cell service. I didn’t know until I was at the train station and I was checking my messages. Luckily, a restart of my phone worked and I had service. I had a few texts. But my sister was trying to get in touch with me. She cleared out my father’s apartment today. We were going through his things. The guy saved everything. We found envelopes of people we didn’t know that sent him cards as well as the cards. Going through his clothes was the hardest because we knew how much he loved them. We are going to donate the good ones to a business success company. I got to call tomorrow to find out where they are. They are located in the town my father lived so that makes it easier.

I found the divorce papers in with my father’s stuff. Ironically, he was divorced on his 67th birthday. I had remembered that it was on his birthday but not the year. He hated my mother for divorcing him because he “did nothing wrong”. I can go on and on with the wrongs he has done but I won’t. I’m not ready to. Maybe after he is cremated, I will.