Adding Insult to Injury

Most of the remainder of my Father's Day was spent a miserable, crying wreck. A few hours after turning my grandmother down, my dad called. I let it go to the answering machine, and then sat nervously on the edge of my couch to see what he had to say. He sounded choked up, like he was fighting back tears as he said "Hi Danielle, it's Dad. Just called to thank you for the card. Appreciate it -- a lot. Sorry we couldn't connect today and do something. Maybe we can do something this week or next weekend or something...." That brought on a whole new flood of tears and pain. I couldn't get together with him later! I wanted him to understand what I'm going through. I needed him to see that I couldn't play this game anymore. But I couldn't. It was all just too heartbreaking, so I settled for crying for a few more hours before falling asleep for a while, hoping that when I woke it would all be gone. Of course, it wasn't.

Later that evening I talked to my mom, who told me that our dog, Chip, was getting sicker, and she was thinking she might have to put him down soon. So, the following night I went to my parent's house and spent hours petting him. You could tell he was in a lot of pain, and getting really weak. My mom wasn't sure when she'd do it, and you could tell that she was trying to put it off for as long as she could. She said she was going to wait and see how he was doing the next day. Thursday night she called to tell me he was really bad, and that she had called the vet to set up an appointment for the next day. After talking to my mom, I rushed over to see him, and to be there for my mom (who sounded very upset). Chip was much worse, compared to Monday. He was even weaker, and his breathing was really hard, and he just had this miserable look in his eyes.

So, the next day, I left work early to go with my mom and my aunt to have him put to sleep. That was so incredibly hard. My mom held him while the vet gave him the shot, and I held his little paw. It was amazing how fast it worked. Almost as soon as the needle was empty the dog began to relax, and was gone only a second or two later. Afterward, the vet wrapped him in an old towel, and I sat in a chair and held his lifeless body for about 30 minutes, while we all petted him and said our goodbyes.

I was pretty upset, but I was mostly holding it together -- being strong. Then, when I got home, I was trying to finish sewing a baby blanket for a friend who was having a baby shower the next day. I was attaching a satin blanket border, and the seams weren't even enough. And when I got to the end and the last corner started to fray, I lost it. Fortunately my boyfriend was on his way over to take me to dinner and to stay the night (he was taking me to my friend's shower 3 hours away the next day -- by some amazing stroke of luck, his friend was having a graduation party on the same day, at about the same time, only 1.5 miles from where my friend was having her shower, so he took me). When he got there, I was sobbing hysterically on my couch. He tried to comfort me, tried to tell me that I did a good job on the blanket and was being too hard on myself (though, I still don't feel I could give that to anyone). But the real issue wasn't the blanket. It was just the feeling of being so overwhelmed by pain and frustration and emotion. It was like the blanket was just the straw that broke the camel's back. It just reminded me of how I feel like nothing in my life seems to want to go right, right now.

I also tried talking to my youngest brother on the Monday after Father's Day, about my dad. I gave him a bunch of print-outs from the internet about meth addictions. The conversation went better than I expected -- but mostly because I handled myself better than I thought I would. He mostly reacted as I thought he would -- acting like he already knew all of this stuff, and listening, but not deeply. He said he knew my dad was still using (even though my dad denies it), and that he didn't believe the crap he was saying about my mom. But, he's been being a real brat to my mom for the past month or so -- calling her a "fucking bitch" and "crazy" to her face, disrespecting her decisions, telling my dad all the stuff she's doing, trying to control her and everything else. My mom has about had it with him. So, I tried to talk to him about how things were going with her, too. I tried to give him some advice on working with our mom. Honestly, if he keeps this up, she'll probably end up kicking him out of the house. I have to say I agree. He's doing things that put my mother in real physical danger. If he thinks he's such a big bad adult (at the age of 19) who knows everything and can make all the right decisions, then maybe he needs to be doing that on his own, outside of the house.

Then, about a week before we put Chip down, my mom found out my brother had called his friend who lives across the street to warn him that a "cop" would be sitting down at the end of the street watching my mom, so he wouldn't do anything and get busted. This kid came over and told my mom about it. We never saw anyone, and my mom knows people in the Sheriff's Department, and had it looked into. No officer was watching the street, or her, or anything like that. So, I'm wondering if my dad didn't hire a private investigator, or something. What it definitely says is that my brother has been talking a lot with my dad, and involved to some degree in the irrational decisions he's making -- perhaps even helping him. I wish I could make my brother understand how much that only hurts his dad, not help him.

Then, as if things couldn't get any weirder, my mom got a phone call the Monday after we put our dog down. A man called on her cell phone, asking for my brother. When my mom asked who was calling, the man identified himself only as an FBI agent from the "Duty Office" in Oakland. My mother kept pressing him to give her his name or other identifying info, and he wouldn't. My mom ended up handing the phone to my brother, and the guy asked him if there was anything my brother wanted to tell him about my dad. My brother only replied that my dad had been under a lot of stress lately. Then the guy asked for my brother's birth date, and his cell phone number. And then I guess he ended the call.

My mom logged the info, and told my brother that if the guy called again that he was to tell him that they would only speak to him if he came in person with a Sheriff's officer and a warrant, and otherwise, not to answer any questions. But, it left both my mom and I scratching our heads wondering what the hell it was all about.

My mom had a court date the next day about some of the divorce stuff. She got exclusive rights to the house. My dad has to pay spousal support (though my mom has to pay the mortgage, which is fine). Although, my dad tried to tell the judge he was afraid my mom would destroy the house (which is BS) so the judge said he could come over to the house once a week (or maybe every two weeks, I don't remember exactly), with 24 hours notice to my mom. My mom will have someone there, though, to make sure my dad doesn't take anything or tamper with anything. My dad also tried to tell the judge my mom put the family dog down without notifying him, which isn't true. My aunt called my dad the day before (right after my mom made the appointment) and told him. They even invited my dad to be there. And my brother who has been talking a lot with my dad, also knew. My dad's attorney came to court totally unprepared. And according to my mom, my dad kept mouthing off to the judge, trying to tell him all kinds of things. The judge didn't step in and shut him up though. It is obvious that he's out of his mind, and willing to say or do anything to "protect" himself. And it makes me so incredibly scared for my mom, and her safety.

That same day, my mom called the FBI office in San Francisco about the call she got. They directed her to the Oakland office where she was told that the on duty agent had called her cell phone Monday night. Turns out my dad went to the FBI office on Monday and tried to tell them all kinds of things about my mom (my mom didn't want to know what he was saying, because she can't handle it emotionally right now). My mom's attorney, and a veteran Sheriff's officer we know (who just took a class on the FBI) both told her that this agent should lose his job for what happened. He completely broke protocol. My mom might pursue a complaint against the agent. I definitely think she should. Lord only knows what my dad said, and how much worse his conspiracy theories are getting.

The fact that he's taking things to this level just shows that it's only getting worse. Why can't the rest of his family see that?! Why don't they seem to get that he is sick, and is in desperate need of help? All I can hope, at this point, is that eventually they won't be able to deny it any longer. I just hope it's not too late for my dad -- not that his family opening their eyes will undoubtedly make him better, but it will allow them to stop enabling him.

Part of me feels like I'm either starting to get used to how crazy things are, or I'm just becoming numb. I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a field, fists clenched, waiting for the tornado in front of me to come slamming into me. I want this all to be over, but it's so far from it. Somehow, I have to figure out how to pick up the pieces of my life, and start trying to move on.