wanderingcyclist69 said:Everything you wrote sounds great on paper—really, it does. It’s all wonderful theory. There are definitely people out there who want to help, whether it’s through just talking things out or other ways, but the real issue—the actual problem—is that not everyone has the best intentions. I have this neighbor who pops over for coffee every now and then, but honestly, I think she only does it to check up on us and see if we’re still "normal." She studies us from head to toe—especially him—watching every single move, every little facial expression, every tiny detail. And it isn't just her; he had people who used to be his friends before he got sick, and once everything changed, they just started labeling him as this or that. Because of people like that—even though he’s never been the type to care about the mindless chatter of idle busybodies—he just retreats into himself. He avoids everyone. If I had to describe it, I’d say it feels like he’s being publicly shamed, like it’s somehow his own fault. At least, that’s how he perceives it. I’ve tried everything—being sweet, being blunt, even being a bit harsh—to convince him that every bit of gossip or misfortune is forgotten almost instantly. People move on so fast because there’s always some new drama happening, and everyone is too busy commenting on and judging the next person or situation to dwell on the past. But it’s just... it's in him. It’s like it's hardwired, something fundamental—this sort of useless, ancient instinct that he just can't shake. People are always talking about *something*. Where would we even be if we actually paid attention to all that nonsense! I get that. I really do. But for him? It hits deep.
Regarding that first post about love and empathy—honestly, you hit the nail right on the head. I am making such a massive mistake here because I’m constantly torn in two. On one hand, there’s this deep pity and sadness I feel seeing him struggle like this, but on the other, I am just absolutely livid that I can't change anything—and even more furious that everyone else just stands by and lets things stay exactly this way. There are days when I actually sit and talk to him, really listening (even though it’s always the same repetitive loop that inevitably ends with him saying, "I'm just so glad you're such a great student, I'm proud of you, you're going to make something of your life since I couldn't"), and I have to fight just to swallow the lump in my throat and keep from breaking down. It's like he's just stuck—he's completely settled into this rut, even though I know he's suffering deep down. Then there are the days where I try to be proactive and suggest something—"Hey, let's go here, let's do this"—just to get some momentum going. Because, honestly? He could easily spend an entire day just staring at a wall from his armchair. That’s why I absolutely loathe Sundays. Every single suggestion I make hits a brick wall, whether it's coming from him or someone else, usually followed by that same tired line: "Just leave him alone, don't nag him, be grateful he has everything he needs and isn't doing any worse." And then, of course, I end up feeling like an ungrateful jerk—angry at myself, angry at him, and angry at them for refusing to help me move us past this dead end. I swear, sometimes I just want to pack up everything I own, throw it all away, and give it to a stranger just to trade it all for one single, normal, active, happy day.
I'm telling you, I feel the same way—I don't know what to do when there's someone like briskgull27 in the family 😬 and they tell me they aren't going to some relative's wedding!!! To a wedding 🙂 saying they won't go 😲 😠 Oh, come on, you can't 🙂 😁 😬 😍 I wouldn't stand for that 😈 🤣
I'm joking—honestly, I have no clue how I would handle it or what I'd even do. I can only imagine, just like anyone else who hasn't walked in those shoes.
As for what you were saying about your friends and neighbors, it seems like a logical reaction to me: what good are friends like that anyway? People are unpredictable, and it's certainly not exclusive to people dealing with mental health struggles; friends bail or cause drama for all sorts of reasons.
A person can always make new friends. Often, people lose connections when they change, and your dad has changed too. It’s just a more heartbreaking case because the illness is what drove that change. I really don't know. Personally, I would try my hardest not to give up on that family member. Though, I suspect I might swing toward an extreme before I eventually find the right balance.
That situation with the neighbor you mentioned is interesting, too. I'm not sure if you guys talk openly about this illness at home or what your general stance is. In my opinion, family members should be able to discuss it completely candidly—no holding back and no unnecessary drama—just accepting it the same way we’d accept a cold or the flu.
The thing is, most people simply don't understand these conditions; that neighbor likely doesn't either, so she's probably just reacting to something she doesn't comprehend.
I'm not sure if you can find any high-quality information online—maybe specifically regarding what life is like living with someone diagnosed with this condition...
Anyway, that's just me thinking out loud; please don't take it as me trying to act like a know-it-all.
It also occurs to me that people struggling with these issues often don't get the actual attention they need from others. Things can easily slip through the cracks. Perhaps, rather than all the articles and advice found online, what would actually help more is just genuine attention—maybe that would offer more insight than anything else. If you know what I mean.
I'm wishing the best for you, your dad, and the rest of your family. Regarding your father: if it isn't tomorrow, or the day after, or next month, then hopefully in a few years. I am deeply convinced that we will see progress in how these illnesses are understood, and that recovery—in the sense of maintaining a good quality of life—is possible. But all of that happens in its own time.