Opportunity knocks

I’ve been away from home for going on a month now. I left my wife and children to come to missouri to help my mother care for my terminally ill father.
Since I’ve been here I have not taken any medications. Nothing for depression, anxiety, Borderline personality disorder, PTSD, high blood pressure, gout, arthritis, you get the idea. I’ve also been doing door dash to make money on the side, which makes my arthritis hurt even more(it’s in my knees and my feet, which have been deformed since birth).
So I’ve been off the psychiatric meds for going on a month. I’ve been doing ok, until the last few days. The thought of my dad dying is both sad and somewhat relieving. My father was verbally and physically abusive. In these last few years, we have gotten closer but we definitely aren’t best friends or anything. The most abusive thing he did was psychological. My sister molested me when I was 6, and my father punished me for it. No police, no charges filed. We got advice from the pastor of the right wing fundamentalist church we went to(every time the doors were open) he said to handle it within the family. Well, the sexual abuse that was stopped by punishing me, turned into physical abuse from her that went on for years that both of my parents observed and did nothing about. I told them repeatedly that she hit me, scratched me, cut me with knives, but the family just pretended it didn’t happen, and went on being good Independent Fundamental Baptists(think Duggars). I even told my teachers at the religious school we attended what was happening, that got around to my parents and again, I was punished for “dragging the family name through the mud”. We left the church not long after and started going to a different, but still Fundamentalist Baptist. My sister had left home by that time and was making babies and screwing everything with a dick.
Now the opportunity. Call me a sicko. Call me a psycho. Both of those are probably true. I have access to a whole host of medications ranging from hydrocodone to some sort of kidney medication dear old dad has to take after dialysis. I’m alone in the house, dad is in the hospital, thank the fucking stars, and mom is spending the night with my other sister, who is actually somewhat sane. He’s already buried one child(same sister that molested me was murdered by a “john” in 2002). I would love to make him bury a second one. He’s responsible. For both of them. I’ll get peace and he’ll get the funeral bill, then he’ll croak and burn in hell if there really is such a place.
Opportunity is knocking. Hydrocodone? Tinadizine? Gabapentin? A combination of those? Quietly drift into the sunset beyond.