I've had a rotten couple of days and I'm at the point that running away/screaming until I have no voice left seem like the only options left.
I've been made to feel as though I am unimportant at work, to supposed friends, and by the general people around me. The look of "WHO do YOU think YOU are?" is something I hate and I'm sick of the drama some people create and expect to drag me into. I'm not in HS anymore and that mentality is driving me bananas! If someone if having a problem, I'm the type of person who will be there for them and will listen if they need to talk. But blaming the problems on me when I'm not involved isn't fair to me, nor does it help the situation.
So, tonight... I got off work and was planning on heading for Karouzo's/Titan's. I was in the mood to have a couple of drinks and sing. I got off work, went home, met Tiff and called Kurt. Our original plan was that my mom would drive us over to the bar and Mike would pick us up when he was off work. I arrived home and my mom wasn't there. She also wasn't answering her cell phone. So after trying the cell(s) a couple of times on the way across town and when I got home, I called one of her friends to find out if she had been heard from in the last (approximately) 2 hours since she had last called me. No one knew where she was so I went in to let the dogs out and wait to hear back from her.
Now, this is where things get a little weirder.
She called me around quarter to 10 to say she was at the house in the N.E. and was waiting for my dad to come back out of the house. My aunt had signed him out of the hospital on a day pass and he needed to drop some stuff off at the house before he went back to the hospital. He'd been in and out of the house and the motor-home and the truck/camper a few times. Mom had been on her way back across town when he called and asked if she had keys to the lawnmower she had moved for him earlier in the week. She drove back over to give him the keys. Sometime after that, she was standing outside talking to my aunt and my aunt mentioned she hadn't seen him in a while. So, mom went to go inside and see where he was. She couldn't get through the front door because he had it barricaded. She called me and asked what she should do and I told her she had a couple of options. First, call the hospital and see what they're strategy/opinion would be or second, call the police. She called the hospital (as did I) and the nurse said that as he's a committed patient, he is their responsibility. She called the police.
Here's where things get a little more nuts... I now have Tiffany with me, she met me at my house. I call Kurt and ask him to head over and make sure mom's ok. Tiff and I head across town. I get a call from the CPS and the nurse at the Foothills on my way across town. We arrive to three cop cars, 6 officers, my mom and Kurt all standing outside the house. We parked across the street for almost half an hour and then mom was asked to go elsewhere, not too far and they'd let her know what was happening. Now, I'm not sure exactly what the protocol/policy is for a situation like this one but apparently the police checked to see if he was in the motor-home first. Mom gave them a key and it was empty; he wasn't in there. Then, they are walking around the house with flashlights (did I mention that Leeza and Cleo are in the backyard and are going nuts?) and knocking on the doors and windows, trying to see him. They couldn't break in without my mom' permission and some form from the hospital so one of the officers drove to the Foothills to get the paperwork and the others kind of hung out, still scanning the house with flashlights. My understanding is that they needed the paperwork and potentially the TAC team, if available. Mike called sometime during all of this and I gave him directions to where I was and when he got there my mom filled him in. The four of us had been freezing so I went to Timmy's for coffee, etc. for all of us.
Eventually, the officer with the paperwork came back and the TAC team wasn't available so they were going in. We couldn't see how they got onto the roof but the next thing we know we can hear glass smashing and the flashlights going into one of the upstairs windows. Shouts of "Calgary Police" could be heard down the block. Mom and I were both already shaking at that point and I think (for me anyway), it made it worse. They were in there what seemed like a long time... In reality it was about 20 minutes so it was longer than expected. This is now almost 2 hours since I arrived with Tiff.
Finally, an officer came over to fill us in. He said they had scanned the entire house and had found him "hiding at the back of a closet in the basement." I have to admit, I haven't lived in the house for 8 or 9 years but I was puzzled. There are no closets in the basement... I realized a couple of minutes later that he must have been in the cold room in the far, back corner of the basement. He was escorted out in handcuffs and seated in the back of a police car. My mom told me to get out because he'd blame me first off and she said I didn't need that. She was right, I don't. We agreed to meet at Denny's ASAP and Mike, Tiff and I left. Kurt and Mom went back over to see what was going on with the house.
The damage was pretty minimal, all things considered. The front door frame is slightly busted but nothing that some wood glue and a clamp can't fix. The upstairs window is going to need to be replaced. Mom is supposed to take a video camera in to take a video of how the place looks so the psychiatrist and we were told that the police are concerned about the animal being outside so we need to figure out where to take them ASAP. Mom is going to look into her options in the morning.
We did go to Denny's. I called mom's friend and filled her in as well as texted my brother. He knew bits and pieces; we'd been phoning him all night about random things that were happening. When Mom and Kurt showed up, Mike left. I drove Tiff home and I'm just home. I work tomorrow from 9:30-6 and I'm not necessarily feeling like it is my best choice to be there. But I need SOMETHING to keep my mind off of things.
As bad as it sounds, I'm numb. To the point that I don't care what happens to him anymore. My Mom doesn't deserve the way he is treating her or people in general and none of his family seems to get how sick he actually is. We're told that we're blowing things out of proportion. I didn't know that my dad weighing in at 125 pounds, wearing a army fatigue-print cowboy hat and driving around in a motor-home that is labeled:
Midnight Cowboy
J.G. Androsoff Farms Inc.
Alberta/B.C.
Along with home and cell numbers on it was blowing it out of proportion. Or, the 16 vehicles he has "acquired" since June. For us, that's the reality. People who haven't seen him in a while would be SHOCKED at how he looks! But the offer of support? Non-existent.
I hope he can get some help in the hospital. But I also don't know how I feel about him being released back into society again. Thus far, since he got out in June, he's worse than when he went into hospital in February. Then again, he now has a grudge and seems to have a need for payback that wasn't evident before. Either way, it's scary.
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