I haven't been able to stop thinking and worrying about my dad for the last two - three weeks. I miss him. I'm worried about him and how he's coping. By all accounts and the information being fed to me via my aunt - it sounds like he is doing well. He's had his moments, as to be expected but i do worry that he might be too lonely in that rest home. One he doesn't even want to be in. He calls it a stress-home. I now understand that his drinking is nothing but a way to cope. But i worry, especially after mum's death, that he is either still drinking in secret or he no longer has a way to cope and is doing what both he and I are best at - bottling things up.
Since my last "entry" - admitting that I feel blame for mum's death, i've decided to go up to Auckland this weekend. I missed a chance to see mum again, and although it sounds real negative, I don't want to miss any chance's with my dad.
This journey, of acknowledging my "link" to alcohol abuse, of accepting and actually living with it (instead of hiding from it), has proven to be hard one, an isolating one, and at times, a terrifying one. It took losing my step mother for me to finally stop running. Now, i'm still trying to catch myself, still trying to understand my history, in the hopes that understanding will lead me to be the one that breaks my family’s cycle. The scary thing is, I have gained some understanding of why drinking became such a loyal friend to my father, how it created the perception that it stopped him (or them) from remembering hurtful events in life. Some days, I have found myself wanting to do the same thing but I fight it, and I keep fighting it because i've seen the worst of the damage.
I know I could do with a hell of a lot more support but the thought of telling other people who haven't experienced anything like this, it’s too scary! I'd have to explain too much. So thank you Kina, for being here for a crazy women's ramblings :-p