So, guess what - I've been thinking.
Last couple of years my dad's condition was worst, it was a typical behaviour of an alcoholic. My parents were couple years before retiring from work. My sister just finished school and got her first real job. I went to college. My brother went through his teenage years.
What can be worse than being a teenager with an addicted parent? Only being a small child with an addicted parent.
All the ups and downs of dad's drinking had such a tremendous impact on me, until couple months ago mostly, well, almost entirely negative. It fucking hurt! A lot! I was messed up, confused about most basic things, I had no idea what I like and what I want. I was lost and in pain. I watched dad drunk himself until he could barely stand or walk himself to his bed. When he didn't get to the bed and fell asleep on the couch I watched if he's still breathing. I prayed for him to wake up and still be ok, drunk or sober, as long as he's alive. During his 'abstinence' periods I prayed through every single one of them, please let this one last, don't take us back down again. It got me so far as to stop believing everything I believed in before. I was dead tired and needed new way to deal with the fact that this is what my father became, he's not changing, he's an alcoholic.
I found my way, I found hope, I found faith, I learned what I have to do, which steps to take to help myself. Dad still has his ups and downs. His last 'abstinence' (he does not believe in complete abstinence as no alcoholic does) lasted for almost 3 months now. He's been drinking very little, as much as a moderate drinker would, and I supported him and hoped for him to make it work, to do it differently this time, to maybe find some help. I gave him all of my positive attitude I could and honestly hoped for the best.
He's been drunk for at least 3 last days straight.
I feel bad for him, it's sad to see him like this but I don't fear of what could happen. I distance myself from him and his problem easier. I think of my dad the way he was before all this crap. I memorize the good moments so that one day I'll be able to remember him in good light.
My brother's a teenager. How he hurts I don't know. He doesn't say much. I don't know what he thinks of it, I'm not sure if he does himself. He doesn't say much. But he's not stupid, he knows things are far from good. He sometimes shooshes me when I talk too much and too loud, signalizing dad's drunk and in terrible mood. He lives at home, he's got nowhere to hide, whatever the mood's in the house, this is where he has to be. And did I mention he's a teenager? Having all possible issues with himself, school, love and everything one can have issues with when high on hormones?
The other day we went walking, it was sunny and warm, got to love spring! I had one of those days when I couldn't stop talking. He not just listened to me but asked questions too! So I told him of how I'm trying to train the dog and how and why dogs react to certain things, the great lessons I've learned from watching Cesar :) We talked about what it means to have a dog and how one should take care of it and raise it like a child. By the time we were going back home, I started a monologue on how difficult it is to raise a kid. We don't learn how to do it at school, no book or simulation can prepare you for the real thing. Everyone does his best, the way he or she has experienced or thinks it's better. Then their children grow up and have their own children and repeat the story. Mostly repeating the bad things as well, carrying their unsolved issues from childhood onto their children. They love them undeniably yet they hurt them with things they do or say, like you're stupid not to understand this or you're bad because you broke this vase. They're hurting and judging their children instead teaching them what they did wrong and how to fix it. I gave couple of most frequent examples of the way we're doing it in our family, how we're hurting and forgeting to mention that we love each other and that we want to do good, just don't know how to do it right.
Most importantly I told my brother, that our family is even more specific, because we live with an addict, who must have been hurt so much to get to where he is now. And who forwards this pain of his to us, his closest who care of him. Our mom and dad both have many insolved issues they don't know what to do with. Dad's an alcoholic. Mom is living with an alcoholic. None of them would do this if they would love themselves and be happy with their lives. It's god damn hard to be a child in such a family!
"So if mom or dad tells you you're stupid or something similar, they want to tell you you've done something bad but they still love you anyway. You're still their son. They just don't know how to tell you what's bothering them in a better way."
All through this monologue of mine, my brother was quiet and I thought how fucking bored he must be, just waiting for us to get home so that he doesn't need to listen to his smart-ass-sister's bullshit anymore. And I asked him to stop me at any point next time if he doesn't want to listen to another speech like that. I don't want to bother him with all this if he's not interested or if I sound like a preacher. His reply was:
"At least there were some smart things you've said."
Oh, he's a great guy, my brother!
Last couple of years my dad's condition was worst, it was a typical behaviour of an alcoholic. My parents were couple years before retiring from work. My sister just finished school and got her first real job. I went to college. My brother went through his teenage years.
What can be worse than being a teenager with an addicted parent? Only being a small child with an addicted parent.
All the ups and downs of dad's drinking had such a tremendous impact on me, until couple months ago mostly, well, almost entirely negative. It fucking hurt! A lot! I was messed up, confused about most basic things, I had no idea what I like and what I want. I was lost and in pain. I watched dad drunk himself until he could barely stand or walk himself to his bed. When he didn't get to the bed and fell asleep on the couch I watched if he's still breathing. I prayed for him to wake up and still be ok, drunk or sober, as long as he's alive. During his 'abstinence' periods I prayed through every single one of them, please let this one last, don't take us back down again. It got me so far as to stop believing everything I believed in before. I was dead tired and needed new way to deal with the fact that this is what my father became, he's not changing, he's an alcoholic.
I found my way, I found hope, I found faith, I learned what I have to do, which steps to take to help myself. Dad still has his ups and downs. His last 'abstinence' (he does not believe in complete abstinence as no alcoholic does) lasted for almost 3 months now. He's been drinking very little, as much as a moderate drinker would, and I supported him and hoped for him to make it work, to do it differently this time, to maybe find some help. I gave him all of my positive attitude I could and honestly hoped for the best.
He's been drunk for at least 3 last days straight.
I feel bad for him, it's sad to see him like this but I don't fear of what could happen. I distance myself from him and his problem easier. I think of my dad the way he was before all this crap. I memorize the good moments so that one day I'll be able to remember him in good light.
My brother's a teenager. How he hurts I don't know. He doesn't say much. I don't know what he thinks of it, I'm not sure if he does himself. He doesn't say much. But he's not stupid, he knows things are far from good. He sometimes shooshes me when I talk too much and too loud, signalizing dad's drunk and in terrible mood. He lives at home, he's got nowhere to hide, whatever the mood's in the house, this is where he has to be. And did I mention he's a teenager? Having all possible issues with himself, school, love and everything one can have issues with when high on hormones?
The other day we went walking, it was sunny and warm, got to love spring! I had one of those days when I couldn't stop talking. He not just listened to me but asked questions too! So I told him of how I'm trying to train the dog and how and why dogs react to certain things, the great lessons I've learned from watching Cesar :) We talked about what it means to have a dog and how one should take care of it and raise it like a child. By the time we were going back home, I started a monologue on how difficult it is to raise a kid. We don't learn how to do it at school, no book or simulation can prepare you for the real thing. Everyone does his best, the way he or she has experienced or thinks it's better. Then their children grow up and have their own children and repeat the story. Mostly repeating the bad things as well, carrying their unsolved issues from childhood onto their children. They love them undeniably yet they hurt them with things they do or say, like you're stupid not to understand this or you're bad because you broke this vase. They're hurting and judging their children instead teaching them what they did wrong and how to fix it. I gave couple of most frequent examples of the way we're doing it in our family, how we're hurting and forgeting to mention that we love each other and that we want to do good, just don't know how to do it right.
Most importantly I told my brother, that our family is even more specific, because we live with an addict, who must have been hurt so much to get to where he is now. And who forwards this pain of his to us, his closest who care of him. Our mom and dad both have many insolved issues they don't know what to do with. Dad's an alcoholic. Mom is living with an alcoholic. None of them would do this if they would love themselves and be happy with their lives. It's god damn hard to be a child in such a family!
"So if mom or dad tells you you're stupid or something similar, they want to tell you you've done something bad but they still love you anyway. You're still their son. They just don't know how to tell you what's bothering them in a better way."
All through this monologue of mine, my brother was quiet and I thought how fucking bored he must be, just waiting for us to get home so that he doesn't need to listen to his smart-ass-sister's bullshit anymore. And I asked him to stop me at any point next time if he doesn't want to listen to another speech like that. I don't want to bother him with all this if he's not interested or if I sound like a preacher. His reply was:
"At least there were some smart things you've said."
Oh, he's a great guy, my brother!
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