Parrish suffers alternating periods of depression and mania. I wonder if he needs a different antidepressant medication, so tomorrow I will call the local mental health facility and try to schedule an appointment for a crisis visit. It’s not likely to happen, but I will try.
I have never seen him so depressed and it frightens me. He hasn’t threatened suicide, but he has periods of weeping, sobbing into his hands. I wonder which is worse, mania or this eerie quiet.
He is binge drinking, and it triggers mania. I believe alcohol caused the hypermania that landed him in hospital twice in the last few months.
I don’t know what to do. Years of AlAnon taught me that I cannot stop his drinking. I have locked up all the wine in the house, and Sophie helped me climb up the hill and lock the contents of the liquor cabinet in the playhouse. I refuse to buy beer, his drink of choice, but he manages to get it anyway. While I am out running errands or shopping, he calls one of his friends who brings him beer. I don’t know how he pays for it.
After P stole his debit card out of my wallet and drained the entire balance on beer, I bought a safe and now I lock my wallet up, along with my car keys and any medicine that he might steal from me when he can’t drink. I have finally done everything I can do. I have plugged all the holes I can fill.
Should I take him with me every time I leave the house? No. I refuse to let P’s behavior cheat me of being with my friends. I refuse to allow his behavior to change my life and interfere with my needs. I won’t serve up my entire world to him. I just won’t.