It’s been about a month now since I moved to Texas, and I haven’t written because I wasn’t really sure how to. I try to keep things light around here because I don’t like putting my business out there and also because I never learned how to not internalize all my problems~ But the main reason I moved was for my family, because of how guilty I felt about not being around when they were going through so much I couldn’t even begin to understand over the phone.
About a year and a half ago my dad lost his job and fell into depression. In that time he has been on so many meds for depression and anxiety and nothing has worked for him. He refuses any type of counseling and it’s hard to even get him to go to monthly doctor’s appointments.
When he picked me up at the airport, he was quiet and nervous, but much better than he is now. My mom’s still not sure how she managed to get him not only out of the house but also to drive the two and a half hours from my hometown to San Antonio. My first week here, he was robotic. Wake up, take meds, eat breakfast, go back to bed, wake up in the afternoon, follow my mom around, take meds, eat dinner, watch Ingobernable, go to bed, repeat. But he’s been getting steadily worse. Yesterday he only left his room to eat dinner in a rush and then go right back to bed. When any of us try to talk to him, he cries. But he won’t say what’s wrong. He barely talks at all. His hands shake a lot. When he’s really tense, his whole body shakes.
My mom cries a lot, too. Because she’s frustrated. Because she feels helpless and hopeless. She’s always been so strong, but seeing her husband of 31 years like this is just too much. It’s too much for any of us, but she’s also taking care of her mother, who has Alzheimer’s, on top of it all. My brother and sister have been helping as much as they can despite how busy they both are, while I was thousands of miles away, living selfishly as I always have. I even selfishly thought I would come back and stay with my family for a month or two before moving to San Antonio or Houston, which in my mind was sacrifice enough because I really don’t want to live in Texas. But seeing my dad the way the rest of my family has seen him for more than a year now, I know I can’t leave again. I don’t know what I can do to help him get better, but I will start by staying.
