Discussions that mention prozac

Death & Dying board

I'm having a bit of difficulty accepting my fathers death. I think most of my family has gotten over it however I haven't.

I am 21 years old and my father was great for the first couple of years of my childhood up until his parents passed away in 1996. This caused him to become severely depressed and he was diagnosed as bipolar. From there he was able to live a decent life but he started having some serious mood issues, multiple personalitys and it was really strange.

One moment he was a loving father who took my brother and I to play baseball or to the pool and then the next moment he would wear his dark glasses to cover up his red eyes from overdosing on medication and get very abusive/loud. I would talk to him the next day about it and he said "I don't remember that". He would always say this. There were times it seemed like he was a completely different person. He was obsessed with firearms (a huge firearm collector) though at the time he was very safe with them until late 96 he barricaded himself in the house and tried to kill himself. The police were called over and they arrested him and confiscated the firearms, after he took a plea bargain all the guns were destroyed with the exception of 2 handguns he hid in the basement.

Over time he seemed like a different person, my guess was he was on a new medication. We went on cruises from money he saved and he was ok for a while until mothers day which he threatened my mother with a baseball bat and said he would smash her skull in for no reason. His eyes were red and I knew he was overdosing again. We left the house and went to a movie theatre since he didn't want to do anything for mothers day and when we came back he locked the door and turned off my mothers cell phone service. We tried to go into the house, my mothers phone only had incoming and he said he would only let "the boys in" (us) but my mother had to stay outside. We decided to go to my mothers work instead and he ended up stalking her, we stayed at a hotel and my father called asking where we were and why we didn't call the next day. She explained and he kept saying "I don't remember that" and continued on the conversation like the day previous before he started acting that way, it was certainly scary stuff. We came up with an agreement that he would get rid of the pills and we would return so he destroyed them (I believe it was prozac at the time). However because he did this, the government refused to release the social security money to us and requested he be put back on the pills.

Over time he would get into these phases though it was really at random. I remember we traveled to my aunts house and she had a really nice house, my father for some reason went nuts on our way back to Illinois because my aunt had a really big house and was pretty wealthy. I think maybe it triggered something in his head as when his parents died, he was excluded from the will however his brothers had inherited all my grandpas belongings and money (who was a rich man) while we lived a average life but my father had no job (he was working for abbot labs making 90,000 a year before he was fired) so we had to change our lifestyle a lot. He would have dreams of being rich one day, having a yacht or a new house or a new car, he would listen to tapes on how to be successful, attempted to start many businesses but was unable to succeed. He had a new outlook on life, thinking positive however that didn't seem to change anything.

I think they changed his drugs again, this time he was not able to get out of bed and looked sleepy all the time. He just stayed in bed all day, not sure why. This was going on for a few months and I remember when he would take me to school in the morning he looked like he was drunk. He asked innapropriate questions. Needless to say I think this is where he was ready to give up.

I remember (my room was next to my parents) hearing my mother screaming, she thought my father was dead. Apparently he threw up on himself (pill overdose) in bed. After this, he lost interest in everything. He was huge into photography and computers (a genious with them) and just lost complete interest in them. I remember during a hurricane I was concerned about the house and he was saying "good, then we can collect insurance on this house, I hate this ****ing house". He was just laying there stairing at the ceiling.

The last stage I noticed was that he went into this different personality, he looked like a slob (face unshaven, hair was messy) stairing at the ceiling laying in bed and he would constantly yell profanitys for no reason. I would go in the basement to use his computer (mine was not working at this point) and talk to a girlfriend what was going on. I remember hearing the generator in the garage and a lot of coughing. My dad couldn't stand up straight and I guess he called 911. The police came down into the basement and said "Excuse me is anyone down here?" and they were saying something about my dad asking if what he was doing was an accident, they asked why there were so many Gasoline canteens in the basement and said it was dangerous. I called my mom and my dad was in the ambulance saying he was fine and she sounded angry and came home from work.

The next thing that happened is I think it was later that night, he went to visit a friend of his in the hospital, he said he was going to shoot at cops so they would kill him and his family would get his life insurance (which was worth a lot at the time). His friend called security and he ran out the hospital and tossed the gun in some shrubs, the gun was never recovered and it was probably picked up by some gangbanger or druggy by now as this was back in 2002. He was taken to a mental hospital (for the 50th time) and was only able to make calls.

My mother tried to get us out of the house, we went up to Michigan for a day where my aunt used to live and I was depressed, then went to Wisconsin for some convention called Gencon. It sorta took my mind off things, but then when we got home my dad was on the phone asking what we did and talking like he was interested. The next day, my mother said we were moving to Florida near my aunt to get away from my father because he was dangerous. I was kind of shocked because I had grown up in the suburbs of Chicago my whole life. Needless to say, the next day we started packing whatever we could. I packed up my computer (though it wasn't working) and a old laptop. We left and it took about 2 days to get down to Florida. It was a difficult process.