Sorry I lied, one more

I need one more thread today.

My mother’s husband was just sorting the mail from yesterday, and he pulled out an envelope for me, and it’s a letter from my father. I haven’t opened it yet. I think I will wait until I take my meds for the night and then read it. That way if it’s bad, I’ll be freshly medicated and hopefully just go to sleep.

I’m not sure how he knows I live here unless my maternal grandmother opened her big mouth like she has done in the past. When I moved to another state years ago I explicitly said I did not want him to have my address because he would mail me really creepy letters, and she let him have my address anyway, and he mailed me creepy letters.

The last I heard about him was that he was accepted back into a homeless shelter / rehabilitation center after getting drunk, running away and getting arrested in a grocery store. They let him back in. The gossip on the grape vine was that my father had been less ragey and vile over the past couple of months.

So this could finally be the letter where he admits he has problems and that he ■■■■■■ up, or it might just be another really creepy letter.

I felt it when I woke up today, there was something in the air today and I’ve felt wound up and feisty all day. And yesterday I was getting intrusive thoughts about my father being homeless and dying. Uncanny things in life, need to focus on not believing that it’s anything spiritual or supernatural. The demons are all metaphorical and always have been.

I hope you go ok reading the letter Turnip. What an uncanny day to receive it.

Even if it is something spiritual I guess it’s okay. My mind has been in battle mode all day over me not quitting meds or giving up on my recovery. Even if this turns out to be another effed up abusive letter, that battle must still be won. This is how my life is. There’s always a wrench out of nowhere. I know I shouldn’t even read it but I’m totally going to, I really can’t help it. I hope he is on meds. He’s needed meds his whole ■■■■■■■ life.

What about if you get your mother’s husband to read it first, sort of screen it for you?

I hope the letter isn’t too upsetting Turnip.

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If it is I will take a break from the forums and not vent about it here. That is too much toxic waste to be spreading around vulnerable people. Hopefully my meds will smooth it over so I can find out if he’s actually getting better yet or not. I really need to read it for myself. My father is the crux of almost all my dysfunctions.

I know what a difficult father is and you have my sympathy. Maybe you should wait like a week or two to read it. It would be better not to throw it away which is what I did once about a friend I was fighting with. I regretted throwing it away. It required years and mutual friends to patch us up after that. Hang on, don’t give him all that power to make you miserable. Stand back and know that he is not with you.

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Okay I went ahead and popped 2mg and opened the letter, couldn’t wait.

The letter is neither good nor bad.

There are no apologies, no talk of taking responsibility, getting medication or admitting to having problems.

But then there is also no abusive language or incest-type talk, so hopefully he has learned that that is an absolute boundary.

It’s basically 3 pages of paranoid ranting about everything under the sun, conspiracies against him and how nothing bad in his life has ever been his fault (in case anyone ever wonders where I get it from).

He also added some drawings he did, including a drawing expressing his dislike of Donald Trump. If he wins the election, this drawing seems to imply that it will take the combined forces of NASA, the Air Force, Superman and Santa Claus to restore order to the world. In all seriousness though I’m glad he’s in a therapeutic environment that provides art supplies.

That’s a good outcome. I’m glad there was nothing in the letter that could trigger you.

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Thanks. That was way more uneventful than I thought it would be. Thank you, risperidone.

I’m an alcoholic, and my Dad’s an alcoholic, and his father’s an alcoholic.

After I got sober in AA, I went to ACOA. My Dad asked me once why I went there. I said, “We learn there that we may never get the ‘I love you’s’ longed for from our parents.” After that, for the next fifteen years of his life, my Dad said, “I love you,” a lot to his six children.

Jayster

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I like his drawing. @anon84763962 has a good idea though. Having someone screen his letters might be nice.

Maybe his way of humour? Glad it wasn’t triggering :slight_smile:

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I delete emails without reading them. No regrets. Haven’t heard anything worthwhile from relatives in 55 years and I’m not going to subject myself to the same crap över and over.

My dad has also been homeless for about 25 years now.

That’s a good way to look at it. I feel for you with your father. I hope it works out well.