Just Give Up……..

Life in the State of Mania

When is it time to just give up??? “What you say, You never give up!”…  But I am just too tired to keep up the charade, I promised myself years ago when and if this situation came around that I would just walk away from it, not face it head on. But here I am smack dab in the middle of it and I know that this is not a “Win/Win” situation how do I know, because I have self talked myself through about every scenario of this situation…

The real story that begins here is that — I’m not the greatest of Father’s — being that I was adopted at the age of 7 to what was my “Father figure” and being just excess baggage in his eyes. The only child to my mother who opted to marry a man 11 years older that couldn’t have anymore children, well didn’t want anymore children.

arguingSo here I am dealing with the youngest of my 3 children, he is 35 and states that he is “Ok” but he is showing signs of a Psychosis at least that is what I see but who am I, just that guy who has had depression for 32 years I was actually thought to be Bipolar, practically a death sentence if it would have been true, but now they say that there are multiple layers of bipolarism, like a onion, so who knows maybe I am bipolar. So I am just assuming from seeing the symptoms that he is presenting. He states that I am the problem, the one who is sick, and maybe so but I keep getting up, going to work somewhat living.

Maybe it is just my Depression but I just can’t get a handle on this situation and it makes me feel sick all the time. I have been dreaming about his psychosis tales — the writing on thepsychotic walls on his car everywhere! He talks about it so much that I am dreaming about it! I am always nervous in my home — if you hear enough about it being bug and watched sooner or later you start to partially believe the bullshit…. At this point it is possible that I am a selfish only child with depression but even so,  that is who I am. He desperately need psychological help, not his parents that can hardly keep up with thier who mental health. Does anyone have any simple ideas that I could used to help him see that not only is he the problem but he has problems…

I hope you are reading this now because this is happening in real time and I, we could use some advice from someone else that may be going through this or has gone through it sometime in the past. Thank you for your time…

State of Mania

 

The Call — (random posting 1)

Life in the State of Mania

*Defining Random Posting #; To post a little something, between posts, not relevant to previous posts that are not completed.

calling-mobile-phoneLast week, I called a man, to tell him, that my Mother had told me — her son — that I was, his son.

There may have been some due pressure for me to do this, if only to find out some medical facts for my immediate family. For me I am 55 years old, and I had resolve to the fact that it just wasn’t needed, so why bother? But some unforeseen force made me call one morning last week while in the solitude of work.

The Call

Begin (screenplay)

He answered my call, and with extreme intrepidness I asked; “Do you know me?” (insert a name for me),

Calmly he replied; “No, I don’t think I do.”

Now in a shaky voice I stated: “Do you know (insert mother’s name here)?”

There was a slight pause, and then he said; “Oh,— yes I do know her.”

Still trying to catch my voice I said as calmly as I could; “Well she told me that you were my Father.”

Immediately he said; “No, I don’t believe that I am.”

After pointing out some relative facts, that he validated for me I asked; “Then how was it that you were made to pay support to my Mother?”

Very simply he said; “You were born with O positive blood, and I have O positive blood. That was all they needed to prove paternity at that time, every other person in America has O positive blood — now they would do better tests.” 

End (screenplay)

The call continued with me trying to use short sentences to gather more information. He spoke briefly about how my Mother and him were just “Hookups” and had only “Hooked up”  a couple of times, and at the end of every one of his paragraphs came the resounding reply that; “No, I don’t believe that I am your Father.”

I finally asked him the question that had forced me into the situation in the first place, and that was for some medical questions about the genetics of the family line, even though I wasn’t his son, so he says. He obliged; and the phone call ended.

giftTo be honest I feel OK about this, it (the call) is finally over we spoke, very congenially, what happens now who knows. I feel deep down the he is my blood Father, and that it is a “He said, She said, thing between my Mother and him. My age and state of mind currently is allowing this to happen, and to happen without incident. I now know some medical, and some genealogical history that I will keep with me like some kind of gift that I can now pass down to my boys.

The Psychologist

Life in the State of Mania

Today I went to my Psychologist, (therapy ongoing, 30 years) yes “My Psychologist”. It was decided that I must write a letter to my father, my dead father. It is thought in some cultures that reconciliation can still be achieve with a written letter even though the addressee does not have a physical address.

So over the next few days or weeks, that is my intention to write an letter that will forever change the rest of my life, sounds easy. How does a person put into words, feelings that he was never able to express before, when the said father was alive?

If I write a cordial letter will that help? Or am I to let it all hang out use the words that I felt — feel? Is this possible, or is this a test in futility? How ironic! The word “futility” this would be the word that my father would use to describe me, ineffectiveness, uselessness and trifle.

Enhanced by Zemanta