Today’s visit with Rory was… odd. He wasn’t himself. Not his normal self, not even his outgoing-social self. He was off. He had had a rough night, and a very difficult day. He was extremely anxious, and I’m not sure his new medication regimen is working fully. He did seem a bit manic, but hyper would be a good word, too. He was all cheerful outwardly to our friends who also came, but I just longed to talk to him privately.
He still hadn’t yet seen the doctor at that point, so he didn’t yet have word when he was going to be released. I love him so much and I hate to see him having difficulties. But during the visit (well, any of the visits this week) he never really spoke much to me individually or directly, and honestly hardly looked at me, today especially. I might be able to attribute that to his anxiety. Maybe he would have lost his composure if he looked at me too much? I don’t know. I do know that I was on the verge of tears most of the time, and it was all I could do to not cry. That wouldn’t have helped him any, so I used all of my meager powers to hold it in.
I then had a nice dinner with a friend of ours, and a bunch of people that were with her. Mostly I just talked to her, because that was what I needed. She has been a dear person in our lives, and has been there for Rory more than once. She’s equally there for me, and was wonderful to talk to.
I then learned that Rory is getting released tomorrow. I’m both excited and worried. I can’t wait to see him again, at home, where we can talk just the two of us. But I’m worried about how he’s doing. He was not himself today. Not so much that the casual observer would notice anything was off, but I was studying him pretty closely. I’ll just hope for the best. He’s likely to be very open to the ideas I have, but I also have a couple of difficult questions to ask.