Apparently my brain has decided that 4:0o am is just too late. The past few days I’ve been waking up at 2:00-ish. It’s a boring time to wake up. I can’t watch T.V., I can’t go anywhere. It’s cold outside, so there are no birds to listen to.
My father is in a very dark place right now, so perhaps I’m just a bit anxious. I know it will get better. It will. I keep telling him he can’t stop doing everyday things, like bathing or helping plate his meals. He wants to stop though.
One thing he has stopped that’s been a great thing, smoking. He has no desires right now. His little brass ashtray just sits on the table in the garage looking sad that it’s not been set to sail.
It’s still unbelievable to me that a person can go from seeming on top of the world, to barely being able to get out of bed. I’m not talking about sadness here. I’m talking about a pure shutdown of the mind and soul. It’s boggling. It’s insane. He’s happy, seems normal, then all goes crazy. He becomes charming and witty. He becomes overt, he edges towards tortious behavior. He’s unpredictable in a frightening way. He crashes. He’s gone South.
I’m sitting here staring at that little ashtray wondering if perhaps the signs of things getting better will be when it turns a little to the right or maybe even the left. Whatever path it decides to take, as long as it’s heading due North.