Hi, my name is Luna and my father is an alcoholic.
A lack of motivation mixed with depression, a sprinkle of anxiety, a smattering of apathy, all mixed together and made it impossible for me to work after high school. That's why I'm 25 years old and living with my parents. I have to be around my father now and he is an alcoholic.
When I was younger I didn't really understand that my father had a problem. I grew up with uncles coming over and drinking just as much so I just thought that's what adults did. Once I was in middle school the reality of his problem hit and by the time I was in high school I was very open with my lack of respect for him because of his drinking. Sometimes, I think maybe I'm being unfair. That he has a problem, that it's a disease. That's what everyone tells me (my siblings the kings and queen of all enablers) tell me that he has a disease and that's why he drinks. I know it'd be extremely problematic and close minded of me to say that I don't think alcoholism is a disease because I myself have never struggled with a substance abuse problem so I can't really speak on that.
It doesn't take away the pain and embarrassment of his drinking. He reeks of alcohol, he goes on drawn out rants about any little subject that he can latch on to and he yells and screams and whenever he starts I feel like I've aged in reverse. The minute I get a whiff of alcohol on his breath and he starts yelling I feel like I'm seven again for some reason. He's the reason I hate when people yell at me and I immediately start to cry when anyone raises their voice at me, it's embarrassing but it's almost involuntary.
My father never hit me he never did anything bad to me except yell and drive me around while he was drunk and say things that hurt me while he was drunk. Once, when I was a teenager, we were driving back from my sister's house and he kept driving up on to the curb because of how wasted he was. My mother and I were both terrified and I asked him to please slow down and try to focus on the road because I was afraid we were going to crash and die. He scoffed and told me he wished I'd die, wished I'd kill myself. He probably forgot what he said as soon as he said it. And everyone seems to think that alcohol is an excuse for never apologizing or being aware of the things that you say to hurt people. He's beginning to have health issues now as a result of his alcoholism and I don't want him to die. Part of me feels so horrible for feeling like I care less and less though. He's hurt my mother so much, not physically but with words and actions. He's hurt me the same way too. I'm tired of living in a home where I'm afraid to leave my room because I don't want him to start screaming at me or provoking me to get in to an argument (which he seems to love to do).
I'm pissed and sick of this and sick of him and I'm not supposed to feel that way because he's my dad but sometimes I hate him.
I just want to disappear right now. I just want him to stop drinking. I just want to move out but I want my mom to be OK too.