Oh dear. Dad's paranoid delusions have now reached the point where -
He believes the Mormons are responsible for the foot and mouth outbreak
He believes that our GP (who is obviously of "Asian" extraction, and a Hindu) is part of the conspiracy (apparently the Mormons report things to him)
He believes that the neighbour is listening to him all the time
Last night he got in a dreadful state and didn't want mum and I to go out for the shopping "because I don't want to be on my own I can't cope with THAT BLOKE"
He said he felt like throwing himself into the river nearby - to my shame my first thought was "go right ahead and put us all out of your misery then"
This morning he claimed that when we got home "You will either find me unconscious or if I meet THAT MAN I will punch him in the face"
We still haven't found any way of reporting this, as dad listens in on all our phone conversations, and (despite his dementia) would instantly work out that a visit by one of us to the GP followed by the CPN or pyschiatrist calling here were connected, which is what happened last time, and he gave us hell over it.
We keep telling dad that if he didn;t constantly wander around the front garden/pavement he wouldn;t have to meet "that man" and, even if he does, he doesn;t have to say anything. Dad just says "oh but I must be polite"...argh!
I feel trapped! How true the old saying is about Hell being a very small place.
He believes the Mormons are responsible for the foot and mouth outbreak
He believes that our GP (who is obviously of "Asian" extraction, and a Hindu) is part of the conspiracy (apparently the Mormons report things to him)
He believes that the neighbour is listening to him all the time
Last night he got in a dreadful state and didn't want mum and I to go out for the shopping "because I don't want to be on my own I can't cope with THAT BLOKE"
He said he felt like throwing himself into the river nearby - to my shame my first thought was "go right ahead and put us all out of your misery then"
This morning he claimed that when we got home "You will either find me unconscious or if I meet THAT MAN I will punch him in the face"
We still haven't found any way of reporting this, as dad listens in on all our phone conversations, and (despite his dementia) would instantly work out that a visit by one of us to the GP followed by the CPN or pyschiatrist calling here were connected, which is what happened last time, and he gave us hell over it.
We keep telling dad that if he didn;t constantly wander around the front garden/pavement he wouldn;t have to meet "that man" and, even if he does, he doesn;t have to say anything. Dad just says "oh but I must be polite"...argh!
I feel trapped! How true the old saying is about Hell being a very small place.