Dad on Pills: Fatherhood and Mental Illness

By Chris Gethard

Laughing not to cry isn’t just a survival mechanism for Chris Gethard; it’s his default mode. As one of the untold millions who suffer from terrifyingly unpredictable brain chemistry—and the need to rein it in by pharmacological means—the celebrated comedian knows what it’s like to struggle with mental illness. He also knows mental health disorders can be inherited, a fact that, unfortunately, didn’t help things much when he became a father.

A poignant and hilarious meditation on the wild ride that is a life medicated, Dad on Pills chronicles the perpetual wrestling match of parenthood and partnership while refusing to shy away from the terrible loneliness at the bottom of “having a brain that doesn’t always work so good.” From the comic absurdity and unexpected dread of a birthing class to the sometimes fraught—for this father, at least—utterances of his toddler son, this tragicomic memoir explores Gethard’s own upbringing, as well as his mental illness and its repercussions. “I spend so much time as a parent quietly praying,” writes Gethard. “Praying that my son, my child, this beautiful boy with his big goofy grin, doesn’t feel this thing I have felt so often in my life. The depression, the manic moments, the dangerous instincts.”

But something magical happens along the way: Gethard devises a plan for always being a good and loving father no matter what vicissitudes of biochemistry his kid experiences. Resonating with honesty and vulnerability, shining much-needed light on the very real affliction of mental illness, Dad on Pills is striking in how it challenges us to be ever more humane and understanding while also constantly sucker-punching us with much hard-earned humor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Everand Originals
• Release date: Jan 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094439082

Chris Gethard

CHRIS GETHARD is a comedian and creator of The Chris Gethard Show and host of the popular weekly podcast Beautiful Stories from Anonymous People. His Judd Apatow-produced one-man show, Career Suicide, premiered on HBO and was nominated for the Lucille Lortel award for its off-Broadway run. He lives in Queens, New York.

Book preview

Introduction

I’M NO HORTICULTURIST, but I’m pretty sure the tree in the back corner of my property is a walnut one. It drops fleshy green balls by the dozens each summer. They make mowing the lawn a real pain in the ass. They get caught up in the blades and sometimes make these explosion noises that never fail to catch me by surprise in a bad way.

My son has become a big fan of this tree—or, more accurately, of those fleshy green balls that I’m fairly certain are walnuts. He thinks it’s funny that I have to stop my work often so as to pick them up and throw them off to the side of the property. I just want to avoid any more walnut eruptions in my mower blades. He’s made a game out of it.

When picking walnuts (I think) off the ground, he aims for the biggest he can find, the ones that he can barely hold in one hand.

Daddy, Daddy, he says each time he hoists one up, I throw this one.

I put all of mine in one neat pile. It is an effort to demonstrate some control. I remove the walnuts from the grass and put them in a pile where I can keep an eye on them. They’re all in one place. It’s orderly.

My son embraces the chaos. He flings his anywhere, as far as he can. They bounce and roll and he laughs and yells. He loves it. He has no need for control yet. He hasn’t run into situations, like I have, where a lack of control leads to scary circumstances.

It would be easy to get frustrated with him, flinging these things all over in random spots when I’m trying to clean them up. I don’t get upset at all. I love it. I clock where his walnuts land and I leave them there. Again, I’m no horticulturist—or botanist—to such a degree where I’m not positive whether horticulturists or botanists work with trees. But I know these are seeds and they might sprout, and I wonder if one of my son’s random throws will lead to a tree of its own growing in that spot.

He’s going to affect the world someday, this little guy with no cares. He will make choices and they will have consequences. He might plant a tree that grows. That’s amazing.

I make choices that affect things and people too. Specifically, him. I’m responsible for making a lot of choices that affect him directly. God help the kid—that thought scares the shit out of me.

I’ve been medicated for twenty years. I talk to a therapist every week. I’ve tried to hurt myself. I have brutal panic attacks that render me helpless. It’s a lot better than it used to be, but it’s still not pretty.

I get to be a parent? Oh, no.

I think thoughts like these often. But on late summer days when the little guy is throwing walnuts and cackling about it, I try to remember how simple life can be. It’s a dad and a son, standing under the son’s favorite tree, throwing round balls like dads and sons have done for millennia.

Complicated things can happen in simple places. Simplicity can oftentimes show you the way. Sometimes the best way to teach is to learn and the best way to speak is to listen.

I was reminded of all this underneath my son’s favorite tree.

Yoga Balls, Self-Doubt, and Other Things I Encountered in Birthing Class

WHEN MY WIFE, Hallie, was pregnant, we took a birthing class. It met once a week for nine straight weeks and it was wild. It was a trip being in a room with so many other people walking their own version of the anxiety-inducing path we were on. I paid close attention to the other dads. I knew my own stress and wondered if I could create some sort of camaraderie by sensing whether they felt stress as well. Maybe we could come together as future first-time dads, finding catharsis in our shared fears. I can’t lie though: I also paid close attention to them because they were a collection of fascinating oddballs.

There was a very nice Swiss man who wore a vest every week. I was blown away by this.

How you gonna be Swiss and wear a vest every day? I asked Hallie after the second class, when it became clear the vest was a thing. It makes you seem like Willy Wonka or something.

That comparison only rang truer when he told us at the beginning of week three’s class that he was a professional chocolate maker. A Swiss, vest-wearing chocolate professional. Can you imagine being able to introduce yourself that way at a party?

And what do you do?

"I … am a chocolatier!"

There was the Russian overachiever kid. I say kid because he seemed to be

Reviews for Dad on Pills

[Brian · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Chris and I share so much in common. I took away some major inspiration and epiphanies through this book. Thanks Chris, you rock.

[Jonathan Rosenzweig · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Amazing read. Truly. Simple, raw, pure, and emotionally enriching. I want more from Mr. Gethard!!!

[awhite · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Powerfully true. My brother succumbed to mental illness and I hope one day my nephew reads this and knows his dad loves continues and what happened was not a choice or a decision, but an illness that was as tragic and similar to anyone other cause of untimely death. Keep advocating, keep communicating and seeking support. Persist.

[Macie Mears · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

An amazing narrative for parents dealing with mental illness of any kind, and those who don’t. I think everyone should read this and be proactive when it comes to talking about and handling mental illness in a more accepting, loving manner.

[Magnus von Tesla · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

As usual, Chris's mix of weird humor and absolute frankness delivers a touching and entertaining book. Recommended for any parent or parent to be who's ever been worried about how they're raising their kid... mental illness, or not.

[Zach Sapatka · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Glad I read this short little book in one sitting! Though I myself am far from anything resembling fatherhood Chris' openness and somewhat dark humor will always resonate with me. I feel so happy to live at the same time as him and his comedy, writing, podcast and whatever else. A beacon of candor and punk rock in a sometimes otherwise fake feeling world.

[g · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Cc’d is the one who wants it for me and the kids will have a good day at the same age