For many year’s of my life I have wanted to scream. Scream at God, scream at the world. Just scream. Never have done that, at least not about this subject. One of the many reasons to start a blog was the subject of addiction. I know that writing this today I will lose something of myself. Something I have kept in a secret room, stored away inside myself to keep it safe where I could cope with it, try to understand and deal with it. It needs to be let go, released from my soul and into the universe.
Addiction touched my family from the get-go. As much as we loved our Dad, he had a real addiction to alcohol. We could go for years without this monster coming into our home. Into our beds where we slept peacefully as children and young adults. It’s not fair to forget all the wonderful times as a family. My Dad was the only father in the neighborhood that would gather up all the kids and take us out to play baseball. Play soccer with us in the yard. For the most part, he made sure we had all we needed and then some. His heart was big, he was smart, a hard worker. He loved us very much, we loved our Dad.
For many years my parents hid his addiction very well. A few times a year I would wake up in the middle of the night to yelling, fighting. It has always been a fight in my mind as to which was worse; my Mothers temper to his carelessness with alcohol, or the drinking that was taking my Dad further and further away. Either way, the two combined would rotate around like a tornado in our home. Endless hours of bad language, accusations and crying….yelling. That damn yelling. Then it would be gone. Silence. The next day would be forced normalcy. That was the drill. Keep quiet. It was not until I was into my teens that I realized that was in fact – not normal. Nothing about this was. There was a monster on my back and my instructions were to ignore it. So, I did. To a point.
My parents divorced in my mid-teens. It was ugly, everyone suffered greatly. The pain was obvious to everyone in the family and beyond. It showed on our faces and in our actions. My Mother’s sense of loss and sadness became her norm for many years. Rehab and AA, Al-A-Teen and Al-A-Non were used with enormous hope by all. Addiction won, and my Dad would die alone, a chronic alcoholic. As much as he tried, as much as he suffered, as much as his mind and body wanted sobriety, alcohol won. I padlocked my secret room after that. This was all bundled up and folded and very neatly put away in this very special secret place. Until today.
Still miss my Dads smile, and that really offbeat sense of humor. I miss how much he really loved his family. Gosh I miss you, Dad.
“Have no fear of perfection – you’ll never reach it” ~ Salvador Dali