Quickfixgrrl
Bluelighter
- Joined
- May 9, 2019
- Messages
- 895
I just came across my dad's daily medication. He was diagnosed with Bipolar 1, 3 years ago. I have watched his rapid decline. I have held his hand and tried calming him before the 10 sessions of Electric shock therapy they put him through. I have advocated for him, pleaded with teams of psychs and doctors and have had him admitted to the pysch ward more times than I can count.
I usually stay overnight with him at his house a couple of times a month, encourage him to eat/bathe and also clean his house. Today I made his bed. What I saw absolutely fucking gutted me.. he spends probably 23 hours of the day in his bed and when I removed the bottom sheet, the mattress was caved in where he lies, the springs protruding through.
He was diagnosed with Bipolar late in life, aged 67. It was also found that he had brain damage due to alcohol abuse his entire life and scars on his brain resulted from strokes, none of which he had showed evidence of having.
A psych nurse visits him once a week and reports back that he's "ok", he just needs to "try", re; bathing regularly and getting out of bed. I argue that the illness prevents him from simply trying, it has depleted every ounce of motivation he has. He isn't manic or delusional anymore, the medication helped alleviate that aspect of the disease, but severely, morbidly depressed. The doctors tell me that treating that depression is a slippery slope as it could "swing" him back into the delusional state of mind.
Today I arrived and, as always, used my key to let myself in. I don't step inside without calling out to him first, because the paralyzing fear that he won't answer stops me in my tracks.
Today I called out numerous times and the relief of finally hearing "is that you"? coming from his bedroom was like... fuck.. he's alive.
I'm at a loss. I've found him previously in such a state that I've called ambulances before.
Today I sought a referral for a new psychiatric assessment for him (while seeing a doctor for my own mental state of affairs) and just hope someone finally fucking listens.
I usually stay overnight with him at his house a couple of times a month, encourage him to eat/bathe and also clean his house. Today I made his bed. What I saw absolutely fucking gutted me.. he spends probably 23 hours of the day in his bed and when I removed the bottom sheet, the mattress was caved in where he lies, the springs protruding through.
He was diagnosed with Bipolar late in life, aged 67. It was also found that he had brain damage due to alcohol abuse his entire life and scars on his brain resulted from strokes, none of which he had showed evidence of having.
A psych nurse visits him once a week and reports back that he's "ok", he just needs to "try", re; bathing regularly and getting out of bed. I argue that the illness prevents him from simply trying, it has depleted every ounce of motivation he has. He isn't manic or delusional anymore, the medication helped alleviate that aspect of the disease, but severely, morbidly depressed. The doctors tell me that treating that depression is a slippery slope as it could "swing" him back into the delusional state of mind.
Today I arrived and, as always, used my key to let myself in. I don't step inside without calling out to him first, because the paralyzing fear that he won't answer stops me in my tracks.
Today I called out numerous times and the relief of finally hearing "is that you"? coming from his bedroom was like... fuck.. he's alive.
I'm at a loss. I've found him previously in such a state that I've called ambulances before.
Today I sought a referral for a new psychiatric assessment for him (while seeing a doctor for my own mental state of affairs) and just hope someone finally fucking listens.
Last edited:
Go gently x
I'm going to confront the situation and ask this quack how the fuck he sleeps at night knowing he's neglecting his duties and leaving my dad to fucking rot. We pay him to be there to check in when we cannot. 
go out to you and your father
