I’ve realized lately just how toxic my father is. As soon as he enters the room you can feel the negativity and anger coming off of him. I sometimes wonder if this is part of my Conversion Disorder. I have always remembered my dad as being an honorable good man. I know he has his faults but nothing major.
My sister said lately that the reason she doesn’t like coming to our house is that when you walk in you feel all of dad’s gloom and doom. She’s right. And he has been like that since we were small. He fought hard to give us smiles and laughter. I never realized how hard until he stopped all together. I am now a ball of anxiety waiting for the other shoe to drop.
All of his bitterness, all of his sorrow, is on display. I love him and I want to howl in rage that a man like him is suffering. He thinks I don’t know how much he wants to be with my mom. I can tell by what he does. His actions say it all.
He isn’t finishing his dialysis sessions. The number of pigeons he has increases steadily. He isn’t following the kidney diet. He isn’t sleeping. He is easily angered and doing stuff outside that you would mostly see men in their 20’s do. He thinks it’s a victory when he survives and brags about it. I get pissed when I see him trailing blood in to the house.
Then he spends hours online trying to sell his clocks. He doesn’t know how to type and is somewhat dyslexic. He hasn’t admitted that to many people. The way he abuses that tablet I’m surprised he hasn’t punched through it yet. He becomes so obsessed that he tunes everyone out. With his horrible hearing it’s easy to do.
I wanted to show him one thing yesterday. I tried for 15 minutes to get him to focus. I finally gave up. My sister didn’t have time either she was volunteering at her kid’s school. She had told me she would be home after their lunch. I had planned to drop off some hair products and stuff for the kids. She didn’t answer the phone the rest of the day.
I’ve only had Dutch (my Chihuahua) settled under my left arm for the last two days. He doesn’t talk much but knows when I’m not feeling well. When my eyes fill up he tilts his head back and sniffs at my eyes. He’ll keep doing it until he catches a tear. Then he rubs his face against mine. Without that I would have nothing.