I HATE MY LIFE

My father embarrasses me.

He is bipolar, and he's in his manic stage. When he isn't, he's usually in bed all day, not wanting to do anything. Now he's up all night and all day, moving up and down, going places. And he thinks he can be mayor.

Now, you're thinking, "oh my, what a noble quest, to run for office." It is not. He thinks he has a message to spread. He had a newspaper published with all his crazy ideas on it. That we need to go back to the land, and that a certain statesman was right and that we need to go back to his ideals blah blah blah blah. He's spending money we don't have on trips to the Election Comission, for a letter he could have easily sent by EMAIL. He hired a portable loudspeaker system for some activity that we don't know about. And he wanted to hire drug addicts to train them so they can spread his political message. Why I'm not filming a documentary on this is beyond me. I think it could win an Oscar.

I could write a book, but I think it wouldn't do him justice. His character is too complex for mere words. I could try it, but it would be too painful. Yesterday he showed up at my job. Da Boss shows up at my desk and says 'You're dad's down there in the kitchen, drinking coffee and making jokes." I wanted lightning to strike me down right there. I felt about 2 inches tall. And I froze in my desk. I wasn't going to go down to see him. My colleagues would associate me with him.

I was terrified, thinking he would stay there until 6pm when I left work. Fortunately he left, as I was talking to my brother, all panicked, asking him what to do. My mom later chided me for doing that. What was I supposed to do? She may be the one with the crazy husband, but I'm the one with the crazy father. I can't stand it. It pisses me off. What's worse, my shrink said I had to learn how to deal with it because bipolarity skips a generation. I looked at him straight in the eye and told him that at that moment I had decided not to have kids.

I can't take it. I HATE THIS SHIT. Short of tying him to a chair with duct tape, there's nothing we can do right now. Just wait for it to pass. Today we held him at home as much as we could, but he escaped, taking my grandparent's car. My aunt was quick to call my Mom and complain that she was supposed to go after him because she was his wife, and it's not like she did anything. How is that? I tried my best to stay cool. I could have mentioned that she didn't do that when her husband up and left to live in San Juan. She was trying to give 'advice', but it was more like barking orders. I politely ended the conversation, and she hasn't called again. She could have avoided it by not giving him the car keys. But it's our fault, and she's the one whose prestige is being affected. She's not worried that her brother has a mental problem. SHe's worried about her 'prestige'. Well her prestige can bite my ass.