At the end of the day, things have calmed down. I have a better understanding of the process of dealing with mental illness, especially when it’s through Medicare. Every state is different but my friend who is a psychiatric nurse, and the social worker, have kind of filled me in on the processes. So there are some avenues to getting him to take his meds, and keeping him confined.
The best thing is knowing I don’t have to talk to him. Or even hear the phone ring when he calls. I can listen to his voice mails if I want, when I want, and won’t be blindsided by his delusions again. That fact alone helped me to calm.
I got down to the water and took a 2 mile walk. They have swings down in the beach front park, like porch swings hanging from a metal frame. I found an empty one in the shade and just sat and rocked and listened to the water, and felt the breeze blowing for about a half hour. I kind of did a meditation, and some self-reiki, and got myself calmed. I realized when I calmed how stressed I had been, over my ex, my niece’s illness, and the obnoxious and arrogant selfish conversation with my now ex-friend on Saturday night, preceding all this chaos followed by a demand I pay attention to his problem Sunday morning. I can still hear him yelling over me, “I don’t want to hear about your problems.” Geezus.
People ask me why I care about what happened to my ex because we’ve been divorced 8 years. One reason is he is my son’s father, and a man I lived with for 40 years. He isolated us so much that I am the only one with the information the psychiatrists and social workers need to make a decision that will keep people safe. Not just my ex, but anyone he may come in contact with. If he’s released, and doesn’t take his meds, which he won’t, and feels backed into a corner because no one will believe his delusions, he could easily turn violent, and has guns and I want to make sure they understand this. As long as I don’t have to talk to him, he cannot trigger old shit in me, at least not to a point where it starts to really affect me. But I do have some PTSD from all those years of abuse, and lies. Now when he starts to tell me one of his stories, I know he’s delusional and very ill, but it still brings back a lot of memories of being manipulated by very similar stories that he made up. When I left him I said that he does not know the difference between truth and a lie. He believes if he says it, it’s true. And now he’s done so much of the lying and fabricating , he’s living within his delusions. It’s sad, and scary to me.
I know it’s upsetting to people who love me that I continue to deal with this. But I’m not dealing with him, it’s the dr’s and social workers that I’m dealing with now. I know what I’m doing, and once I know that they understand, I’ll let it go.
Well it’s off to bed. A few of my girlfriends are coming over tomorrow for moral support. I think we’re going to gab and have Chinese take out. Should be nice.
Love and light, all.