In 2001 my mother and I had to have my Dad court ordered to a psych ward because he was threatening my mother, and threatening to commit suicide.

The 17 days he spent in the hospital were so emotionally filled that after it was all over I ened up plummeting into depression myself. My reasons for depression had little to do with the episode, but it was that match that lit the powder keg.

Dad is an alcoholic. Since retirement he started drinking 24/7. This is basically what brought on that episode, but I think there is much deeper hidden issues inside of him.

Four weeks ago, Dad colapsed at the dining room table at dinner time. My mother called 911 and he has spent the last four weeks in the hospital. I do not understand what occured, but his mind snapped. He was delusional and hallucinating. He had no balance, had to have help getting to and from the toilet, and generally just urinated on himself rather than ask for help. According to his physicians he was suffering from alcohol related dementia.

At one point he was admitted to the geriatric psych ward for three days.

This has been another emotional rollercoaster. Mom is a basket case during times like these, making her own odd statements and acting strangely at times. I am the only sibling in the area, so have spent a great deal of time trying to help her sort through this.

Dad was transfered to the physical rehab center of the hospital a few weeks ago, but has still continued to suffer hallucinations even as late as this past Tuesday. These hallucinations include things like seeing a pig on the hospital lawn, seeing little children sleeping on the floor next to his bed at 2:00 AM, believing the nurses painted all the walls orange then had them white again by the morning, seeing my mom sitting across from him then seeing a whisp of wind make her disappear. To Dad this all seemed rational.

The Rehab social worker indicated that Dad's insurance was running out and although he was going to be released she didn't feel he was ready to go home. Mom and I scrambled to find an assisted living facility that could handle dementia, and even though Mom is his medical surregate, he had to be declared incompetent by a psychiatrist for Mom to MAKE him go there. I need to stress that we asked Dad to go voluntarily, which was a total farce. He swears he is fine, and he was never sick to begin with, and has been "incarcerated" the past four weeks.

I wrote a two page letter to the psych doctor, because guess what... no one can tell us when the psych doctor might arrive to evaluate Dad. If I had a clue when he would show his face, I would have been there. In the letter I spelled out my Dad's odd behavior, including his many episodes of hallucination, and his delusional state of mind.

Guess what. Because my Dad knows his name and his date of birth, he has been deemed competent. Oh, and the doctor shared my letter with my Dad. Thanks for putting a strain on our relationship, asshole psychiatrist.

Here is the thing. The last time my mom and I sought a court order for the psych ward, I stuck my neck out big time and in the end basically got it chopped in half.

I stuck my neck out this time and again got my head chopped off. I spent an enormous amount of time away from work, not to mention emotional energy to make sure that Dad does not endanger himself or anyone else, and has more time to recuperate. I seriously am concerned about my mom, her own mental and physical well being. But my hands are tied.

There is a part of me that wants to complain to the hospital administrator and risk management. If my father comes home on Sunday, as planned, is he going to jump in his van or my mom's car, drive off for a bottle of gin, and become lost, or run over a hapless soul? Who is responsible? I tried to keep him in a place that was safe for everyone.

My mom flip flops from anxiety to resolve. I don't know whether to keep pursuing this assisted living thing, or just cave and let the two of them live in their dysfunctional world and not care.

It is the caring that has me teary eyed now. I feel so helpless and I DON'T WANT TO CARE ANYMORE! What does a person do to turn off the emotion when they were brought up to care about family?