Campaigning for Sainthood?

With all the drama with my Dad yesterday, thankfully I had Boyfriend to come apart on.

Bless him, he offered to go over to the house with me, but I wasn’t going anywhere near it yesterday. I knew it would do nothing but piss me off even more and give me a major migraine. I told Boyfriend that I’d emailed my Dad earlier in the week and let him know that I’d be going over there Friday to pick up the red Christmas sweatshirt that Chatty was insistent someone bring her. 

He asked if I would wait for him to come home from work before I head over there. I told him no, and here’s why.

I don’t want to be there any longer than I have to. It’s terrible to say, but it’s completely true. I plan on showing up at the designated time, testing the gate opener, going in and getting the sweatshirt and getting the hell outta there.

Then Boyfriend did something I was worried he would do. He asked if I thought if we moved in with my Dad that things could improve.

I started to shake. Because I know he means well, but Boyfriend and I moving in with my Dad would be a nightmare of apocalyptic proportions. Boyfriend thinks that if someone is there to “monitor” and keep him company that my Dad will behave and not be quite so “Howard Hughes”. But he’s wrong.

He doesn’t understand that my father will go into hyper-control mode. When his medication starts running low or he misplaces it, he’ll accuse us of stealing it (he did that when the caretakers were there trying to take care of Chatty. If a caretaker wouldn’t do all the chores he told them to, he’d trump up these charges in his head and fire them.) or demand that we both be home at a certain time and in lieu of rent, he’d probably insist that I act as housekeeper and maid. I also shudder to think about leaving Puppy alone with him all day. She’s so little and quiet, he’d probably step on her or kick her on accident and I’m starting to have a panic attack just thinking about it.

I know his heart is in the right place. I’m pretty sure Boyfriend is inadvertently campaigning for Sainthood, and I love so much I feel like my heart is going to burst, but Boyfriend is completely bonkers mad.

I told him that maybe we could start going over there together and cooking dinner and spending some time with my Dad every few weeks. But anything more than that would be too much, even if he were sober it would be too much.

I need to stop thinking about this, I can feel my shoulders getting higher and higher, soon I’ll be wearing them as earrings.

Ugh.

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