My dad's been wearing me out lately.

He hates everybody. My mom. My sister. Her husband. The dog. The neighbors. The workers at the gas station. The government. The anchors on the Fox 19 morning show. You name it. Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch.

Lately he's been wailing about his health. He must have cancer somewhere because he's losing weight. The doctor lied about him having diabetes. The vascular surgeon fucked up the surgery clearing the arteries in his neck. The eye doctor fucked up his cataract. The orthopedist fucked up his back. All the doctors fucked him up so he needs a lawyer to sue them. And he's not going to take his medicine anymore because the doctors are liars and quacks.

He also has this fantasy of moving into a fancy retirement home. He'll have his own room. Every meal will be a bountiful buffet and every day pretty nurses will take him to the casino, bingo, race track, wherever he wants while attending to his every need.

These delusions are exhausting. I'm worried about him acting on them. How long before he gets into a fistfight with a neighbor? Gets thrown out of the gas station for being a prick? Calls 911 because he's mad about something? Wanders into the nursing home up the street and demands to be taken in? Pushes my mom and makes her fall because they're fighting? Falls and breaks his hip or gets himself killed because he's being crazy.

I worry about that constantly.

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