Bipolar reality

Well, this past week has been a chore, to say the least! In between the nearly constant arguments about me "treating DH like a child" regarding the Percocet, I've also had to deal with more instability.

DH called his mom to set up plans to go to her house to finish the work he didn't finish last time (because he was in the hospital) and the time before (when he just didn't get anything done). His mom told him he needed to bring the truck (over $100 gas money one way, and I don't have that). He said he didn't have any money and she told it like it is. Probably she shouldn't have, but she only spoke the truth: "You are costing me a fortune. I can't afford this. I've paid for you to come for two long weekends and so far all I've done is buy you pop and cigarettes, pay for your prescriptions (that they gave him in the hospital) and feed you. And that's not counting the gas money."

I'd like to say I'm shocked, but really, that's how I feel a lot of the time, too, I just don't say it, because I know what happens when I do: Instead of saying, "you know, I've really got to get my **** in gear, all I've been doing is sitting around.", he says, "I'm such a burden. All I do is make people broke. I'm a piece of shit. You'd all be better off without me." I know how it goes, because every time I bring up the money he "needs" for things that I don't see as "needs", he says the same thing. This time it was a little bit worse, though, because it was his mom, not me, and she had never said anything like this before. He's been having a pity party for the last three days. His mom finally said she'd wire him the money, and he refused it. So then he declared himself to be a piece of shit because his mom needs his help and he refused her money. I ask him "Do you feel like hurting yourself?" "A little."
But he won't do anything about it. I think we really need some medication tweaking.
He was doing so good there for a while, when we found Lithium, I'm really disappointed that we're back into all the drama and self-pity again.....and the Percocet, too. And this time seems so much harder for me to handle in a nice way. I'm biting my tongue more. I'm finding myself making sarcastic remarks under my breath. I'm really frustrated. Supposedly, if he goes, he has an appointment with the psychiatrist in early November. I'm crossing my fingers for that. I don't know what else to do!