feeling close

Having gotten some great chiropractic work done today, I'm not drinking so I can take ibproufin.

Interesting how much you realize you would have been drinking if you were keeping up with your parents. A bottle a piece so far. John smokes pot all day anyway and has already had a brownie as well.

So tonight Mama Lindsey, Dad and I sat in a circle and talked about a few things. One of which was the people we had been with who made us feel comfortable, safe, and appreciated for who we are. When we got to John, he wasn't sure, and said he would have to think about it for a while to know. I told him if he had to think that hard, it probably wasn't good. Not long after, while I was trying to explain something about myself, he just got up and walked off, like he often does. Lindsey got irritated and bummed, making silent "oh Jesus..." faces at me. I paused, and then loudly asked Dad,
"so....are you done out here? What I was talking about is something personal about me that I'd like for you to know."
He mumbled an excuse/reply, and said he'd be back in a few minutes, but Lindsey got up and left.

You know, there's this part of my Dad that is hard to grasp. I understand, probably better than anyone else, his mental ebbs and flows. I also understood that he was partially listening, but was overloaded, sad, and needing a distraction. He walked back into the dining room, making a disapproving exhale at discovering her absence, the exact same thing he had just done.
I've been trying to just fucking keep it light, smile lots, keep him company, and just be supportive.

"Dad, you wanna go see some pictures?"
"sure..."
we sit on the couch. he stands up and walks over to the sliding glass door, looking out over the dark deck.
"You know, it's just tough when you walk out of a room like that when you're a part of a group sharing."
"Well it's good to know where I stand." His back faces me, voice standoffish.
"What do you mean?"
"Lindsey. Doesn't feel safe or like herself with me. Sure didn't name me as someone she felt comfortable with."
"....neither did you Dad."
"I don't fucking trust her."
"You don't trust yourself. Or anyone for that matter. Well, you almost trust me to do the grocery shopping."
"hardly."

Something inside me wilted a little. The rest of me went silent.