AnonymousJune 15, 2017 at 11:53 amPost count: 2
My Dad died 11 years ago. It seems like a long time but in my head it’s not. It was very hard for me to come to terms with my loss, I adored him with all my heart, he was a very good dad and all was perfect except that he was an alcoholic. He wasn’t abusive or violent, quite the contrary, he was nice, loving, gentle…That’s why I never could be angry with him. No, he doesn’t have a problem, we are a perfect family…as you can tell, I really was in denial. We never talked about his alcoholism, it was a taboo. I couldn’t even say “my Dad was an alcoholic” until I was 22…
It was terrible to watch him fall apart: he became another person when he was drunk, he was totally unpredictable, he sometimes broke some of the furniture because he fell on them, he was frequently sick and was in the hospital many times. When he was drunk he had nightmares and I often woke to his screams at night, I always had to make a terrible decision: do I go and wake him up, although I’m terrified of the sounds and him, or do I wait for my Mom to wake him up which will end up in fighting…Then my Mom was slowly getting more and more desperate, it was a terrible thing for her to see him like that, and she loved him very much. She tried everything to make him stop, of course, not one of them worked, my Dad didn’t want to quit. I was torn between them, I felt sorry for both and couldn’t do anything for either of them. He eventually became depressed and drank even more. His cirrhosis was worsening, I frequently went home and saw that I can’t wake him up, he fell into a coma. He was sick once again and died when I wasn’t at home, my family was there though. I felt as if it was my fault, only now did I understand completely that there was nothing I could do, he was very very sick. When people asked me what happened to my Dad I never told them the truth (cirrhosis). I was still in denial. I couldn’t come to terms with his death for a very very long time because I couldn’t come to terms with our past, with his alcoholism and how this affected my life.
And it affected my life really badly. I was a broken child and I became a broken adult. I’m trying to heal now but it’s very hard. I still don’t really understand it all: why did he do it? Why was the alcohol more important then his family? Why didn’t he ask for help? Why, why, why, why…I sometimes wonder how my life would be now if he weren’t an alcoholic? How different would I be, how different my life would’ve been…And I’m really angry at him sometimes. I’m angry and I can’t do anything. I can’t even talk to him! I have bitterness and anger towards him and I feel bad because of it…I love him and I’m angry at him. It’s difficult but it’s much easier now than it has been even not so long ago. I hope I can heal myself and my life some day…
Thank you for letting me share:)
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