Ron was doing his depressive, existential crap this morning. Yelling at God to take him, etc. He had better be careful what he says to medical professionals or he is going to end up in the hospital downtown. Ron flatly refused to moderate his drinking at night...and our ride arrived and we had to go to work. I put him in the hall for a while and did some work. Then I got to thinking he was clearly very depressed and it would just be made worse if he couldn't work.
I had additional bandages, tape, and first aid cream so I figured I would take a chance on him stocking. I put his hand into a latex-style glove, it took a couple of tries but I got all the fingers lined up properly. He was able to stock just fine with the glove.
We did agree we had to cover his injury as much as possible because one drop of blood would get us booted out of there so fast it would make our heads spin. He did not leak, not even onto his bandaid.
So, that worked and he was happier and more productive. He refused to drink anything, only one can of soda. Then he said he was "full, and couldn't drink any more".
Management had maintenance start bringing in big tables, and told me they were getting ready to give away catered lunches for the workers. If they keep giving away free food WHAT is our purpose being there? What is the point of going in and stocking if they are going to give away the same/better thing? I said screw it and folded my tent, got Ron.
He said he was "cold, and wanted to sit in the sun" so we did that for a while. His phone rang but we did not know the number. I believe what happened at that point: the ride came very early, a half hour early, and was trying to rush us. Also did not read the notes which are very clear on where to go on the property, to pick us up.
We went out about 10 minutes before our ride and nothing. 10 minutes after, nothing. Ron called "Oh they came and left already, didn't see you". We are visible, waiting, from the street. So that's a lie. Either they came VERY early and did not wait the way they should have, or they went to the wrong area. I believe they did both. Either way they FAILED TO DO THEIR JOB properly.
So Ron had to call the advocate and ask for him to fix our ride. He did and we had to wait another 15 minutes. Remember Ron had a doctor's appointment at 11 and it was after 10:15 by this point. I paid for the driver to take the tollway and we got there one minute late.
Of course they wanted a sample and Ron took half an hour in the bathroom [rolleyes]. Ron met with the doctor and we got some new magnets. We didn't have to wait too long to go home but I was exhausted by this point.
We got in the house, I ate some of my leftover pizza. I had it on a plate, on the floor, sitting in front of my chair. Cleo came out from under my chair and began eating the meaty toppings off my pizza. It was cute and funny. I didn't yell at her but I did pick it up. Cleo seems to like pretty much any meat. I finished it and took my pills, then laid down.
When I got up Ron was in the kitchen drinking and listening to TV on headphones. We talked a little about depression today, I said there are plenty of doctors who can help. BUT he has to be consistent taking the medication. And patient, because it can take weeks to work. He nodded and looked serious but I wonder if he is at the tipping point yet.
I did tell him, flatly, he cannot take prostate medication because he drinks and they interact. He has enough problems falling right now. But perhaps he really will commit to an antidepressant.
I am 1000% certain depression is driving his drinking. There isn't much I can do, as his wife, but I will absolutely take him to a MD and get a prescription if he is willing.
Does that excuse all his bad behavior? No. He learned some very unhealthy coping and conflict strategies as a child. Yet he believes it was a wholesome, happy, family life.
I know my childhood was messed up and I don't model that with Ron. As I age I have less and less tolerance for the "addict is sick" theory. Addict is a selfish asshole choosing to use. I can't abide addicts. I even decline narcotics when in severe pain out of fear a taste will set me up for trouble down the road and/or make me look like a "seeker" to the medical provider.
Ugh. I'm so tired and I just got up.
10 comments:
Getting him on an antidepressant isn’t going to get him off the booze. Guaranteed.
Nothing's going to get him off the booze. But this depression is toxic for both of us. I already battle my own demons and constantly having his slung in my face? Exhausting.
We could both use a hand with that. I also believe he will not be as reckless if he can get the depression alleviated.
My dad took antidepressants and drank. Kept asking for higher doses and higher doses, all the while continuing to drink. Alcohol is a depressant. He never quit drinking and was found dead on the living room floor last year. No Dr. should prescribe antidepressants to an alcoholic IMO.
My dad took antidepressants and drank. Kept asking for higher doses and higher doses, all the while continuing to drink. Alcohol is a depressant. He never quit drinking and was found dead on the living room floor last year. No Dr. should prescribe antidepressants to an alcoholic IMO.
I worry about that. I really think they could help but he would have to stop drinking first. And then part of me says he's going to kill himself anyway... if he does I hope I don't get charged. He has gotten very reckless of late which has me concerned.
Heather, I think I figured out why you haven't done anything for the future. You're waiting him out?
Basically waiting him out. If he wants to kill himself I will do what I can to stop it but he has been very reckless of late, especially with medication. At one point (without my assistance) he had vodka: tramadol, benadryl (allergies were acting up), and meclizine (motion sickness) on board. He told me the next day to "prove he was fine"
If he is hell bent on killing himself softly I cannot stop him. If he does an acute overdose I am aware of I would call 911 but he drinks so much, won't eat, won't take his medication, lives in bed when he isn't falling...
It is not if he dies but when. I am done fighting it. I encourage him to do the right thing at every opportunity but one person can only do so much when the other is hell bent on doing everything wrong. It is akin to someone driving recklessly on a motor cycle without a helmet. He is, I believe, able to make his own decisions (when sober).
You've done all you can, short of committing him. Be at peace. My dad wanted to die at home, he got his wish. Probably drunk, face down on the living room floor.
He’s like, never sober
Well, at work... but pretty accurate on the rest of the time.
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