Dad has deteriorated, big time.
He phoned me the other day, crying too much to be able to speak coherently, said he was sorry and that he couldn’t find a way out. He was talking about killing himself. I had to threaten to phone an ambulance to get him to calm down, and then luckily my mum came in (he had been on his own).
He saw a psychiatrist today; she admitted him to a psychiatric unit.
My poor, poor dad. I can’t bear the fact that he’s in this state. I hate it. All he’s ever done is to do his best, work hard, provide for his family and been a gentle, caring man. And what does he get in return? This absolute agitation, where he can’t think straight, listen, or function.
Absolutely sucks, doesn’t it?