Monday, May 27, 2013

Locking Up My Stuff



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.        


   
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