last day of summer

I have written about this topic before, but it seems an appropriate time to bring it up again.

We are all the products of both genetics and our environment. Sure, psychokillers can be raised by the nicest families because something genetically is just off. For the most part, however, our families have a lot of influence over who we are and who we become. At first, we just learn their vocabulary and their accent. From there, we take on opinions and mannerisms and viewpoints. We learn how to interact with the world through interactions with them. This can leave us imprinted for life, in good ways and in bad.

My dad is an alcoholic. It is no secret, not even to him. As I have said before, he was never physically abusive, though he could get grumpy and verbally snap once in awhile. We always had a home, clothes, food… but we never had what we actually wanted – dad.

It has been a struggle for him since his late teens. He grew up in a bit of an emotionally unstable family and joining the navy took him to places where drinking was the only activity. It began.

My mom says that when they met, she really did not know how “bad” it was. My father was working on the stock exchange, taking out clients, meeting at bars, being social. After she had me, and her husband, now a father, still came home late and still came home wasted and still was making more love to the drink than he was to her that she finally realized.

She had hope though. She tried many different ways to make him understand that no man is an island – what he does hurts her, hurts me, and hurts my brother. She implored him. She gave him ultimatums. She cried. We did much the same – conversations, letters, tears. In the end, all he can say is that he will do it when he wants to do it, not before, and not for anyone else but himself.

We love him, but he is a difficult man to like.

To a person without an addiction, it seems quite clear that if he loved us, he would be willing and able to fight this fight. If he loved us, he would take care of himself for us. If he loved us, he could see how much he hurts us. Unfortunately, it is not that simple. His mind is wired differently and the result is that it makes it much easier for him to make excuses and to rationalize and to blame us. In his mind, he is just doing what he wants to be happy and clearly we are the ones who have the problem, we are the ones who want to “change” him and put rules forth and bind him.

Who is to say he is wrong?

But here we are, at the end of summer. At 30 years old, I did not think I would still be as hurt as I was as a child every time I see him drinking, every time I know he is buzzed, every time I see the anguish in my mom’s eyes when she is looking at the glaze over his. This summer has been bad.

There was a time when he was sober. It was an exciting time, full of anticipation. I was happy to go to my home. I was happy to see my mom and dad actually together. They went on dates. They spent time with each other. They seemed to be having fun.

I don’t know what changed, but his sobriety ended, and so did their relationship.

About 12 years ago, my mom asked me if she should divorce my dad. I told her at 18 what I will tell her tonight – life is too short to put up with this bullshit. If my dad wants to drink himself into the ground, that is his choice, and it is not her fate to have her heart broken every day. Life isn’t fair, and in fact, it is rather cruel. She has done her best to make him see how life could be and to show him that he has all of our support. If he takes the dark path, it does not mean that my mother has to walk down it with him. It does not mean she has to be scared to come home every day. It does not mean she has to watch him commit a long and slow suicide.

I am not an advocate of divorce. I think people in our country get divorced at the drop of a hat. The real issue is that these people often get married without actually knowing the person they are marrying and then end up realizing that they shouldn’t have been married in the first place. However, I think if you make a commitment to each other, you should sincerely try to work it out.

My mom has tried.

My dad… who can say? Has he really tried sobriety? Think of a habit you have. Maybe you bite your nails or pick your nose or pop your pimples. Go ahead, try and stop for a few days. Suddenly you will find yourself doing it when you were not even thinking about it. I think this must be what addiction is like, and without being totally conscious and deliberate about not doing it every day, you suddenly find yourself two drinks in at the bar. There is some truth to “it just happened”, and it is very hard to commit to real change, especially to a habit that is 48 years old, as it is for my dad. Is that an excuse? Hardly. We are the ones who hold ourselves back. At the end of the day, you are to blame for your own actions.

I have put it forth in no uncertain terms that any future children I have will not be allowed near my father if he has been drinking or smoking. No wiggle room. No negotiations. I love my father, but I already know that I will fiercely, passionately, and possibly even aggressively love any children that come into my life. I will not put them through what I have gone through. They will not be exposed to that, so long as I can help it.

Of course I want them to have a relationship with my dad. My dad has a soft spot that he only lets show once in awhile. He would love to have grandkids. He would absolutely dote on them. However, I cannot abide his destructive choices, and I will not let those decisions affect my kids. I refuse. I think my dad, in a way, sees this as a punishment to him, or a way to rein him in. It has little to do with him and everything to do with providing a happy and healthy life for my future progeny.

This brings me back to the beginning of the post – our families affect who we are and who we become. I am positively scarred for life due to my dad. In some ways, it has been good. I am without a doubt strong and confident in who I am. I am quite rational and I have seen both good and evil in the world. I know that everything is in shades of grey. I am loved by both my parents in very different ways. On the other hand, there are downsides. If my husband ever got buzzed, I think I would throw up. Just considering it turns my stomach in knots and brings tears to my eyes. If he ever developed a habit, I would be out of our marriage lickedysplit. And for those of you who know our relationship, you know that we are truly soulmates. This would break us. And honestly, I don’t think I could have had a husband who drank… I could never give my heart to someone who did. Is that wrong of me? It is what it is, and my family molded that in me. It hurts too much to see my dad and I could never live with seeing it every day.

I am not sure what will happen next. My dad knows that if I get pregnant, he will not see that kid until he puts his demons behind him. He also knows that I care deeply about him and that I really really want to see him around. As far as my mom goes, she is tired. It is unfair that she has had to deal with this on top of everything else in her life. She does not want to do it anymore and my brother and I are not sure she can muster enough strength for the last offense. No doubt about it though, things are bad, and something needs to change.

I hope that my father can get pass his own lies and see that there is joy to be had in life and that his family can be his strength when he has none. I have not yet given up, and this past week has shown me that I was actually the only one who had not. My hope shines through though, and I think in some ways it has sparked some life back into my brother and mom.

No, it is not fair to be the one to hold the hope. Honestly, I do not want to deal with this any more than anyone else does. From somewhere within me though, I feel like I have the strength. I feel like I can support my family, and I suppose that is the whole point of having a family in the first place, right? Someone is always around to give you a leg up if you need it. I just hope this horse is not too tall.