Category Archives: My Story

How I Have Dealt With the Alcoholic in My Life

Over the course of the past few years dealing with the alcoholic in my life, I have picked up a few things along the way that has helped me better cope with my situation.  I have learned to help myself stay focused on the things that I can control instead of draining my energy and resources on the things that I can not control.

I learned that the one thing that I can not control are the actions and decisions of someone else.  In this case, I can not control the drinking habits of my father and I cannot persuade him to stop drinking either.  What I can control is how I handle the situations involving my father when he is drinking.

For example, I can choose to remove myself from any negative conversations such as the drunken text messages that I have received.   I have made it clear to myself that I will not put up with his drinking on any level and have made a commitment that I will not let his destructive ways interfere with my life.

From my experiences, I have vowed to help others, like me, deal with the alcoholic in their lives.  If you would like to learn more about the methods I have adopted to help myself deal with my father, you can check out my book, “How to Cope With the Alcoholic in Your Life“.


Advice For Dealing With An Alcoholic

Over my struggles with my father, I have found out that it is better to help myself to deal with the struggles that I have gone through in lieu of my father’s drinking habits.  I had spent a lot of time and energy trying to get my father to see that he had a problem, however, he continued on like what I said does not matter.  This angered me for a little while because my father always resisted my attempts and I only wanted him to stop drinking so he would be able to live a long and healthy life.

But, after I realized that I do not have power over the situation, I decided to move on and help myself deal with the feelings of anger and distress over my father’s actions.  If I am not able to help him, I will at least help myself deal with the ugly truth that my father will never be the same until the day he decided to opt for a healthier lifestyle.

So, my advice for people who have to go through a similar situation, is to try and not let the alcoholic in your life’s problem affect your own life as much.  Each day, try to make your life better and do not let yourself get down if you can not get through to the alcoholic in your life.

Things I Realized Dealing With An Alcoholic

One of the most important things I learned with my journey dealing with my alcoholic father is that I can not help him, my mom can not help him, my whole entire family put together will not be able to help him.  He has to be the one who wants to commit to helping himself, or he will never fully get out of this state of mind.

I have realized that the more people who tell him he needs to get help, the more he will resist.  Basically, if he is convinced that he needs to get better and go to rehab, he may try to go to rehab, but will end up right where he is right now.  If this happens, he will never fully get over his addiction.  However, if he makes a commitment to himself, this commitment will be more sincere and he will have his own desires to change his life for the better.

It is a hard thing to deal with an alcoholic.  I feel that if he will continue to do what he pleases no matter how much my family and I beg and plead for him to stop.  With that said, I have realized that I might as well try to help myself overcome the obstacles that result from dealing with an alcoholic and let him find his own path to recovery.

The First Step

After days and weeks of text messages coming from my father, I decided that I could not put up with the messages and his hateful words any longer.  Even though I was not responding to his text messages, they kept on coming.  Even though they would stop for a couple of days, they would end up coming back.

I just wanted to put this whole ugly mess behind me and move on with my life.  I was done trying to help my father quit drinking, and I realized the most important thing of all: I needed to start helping myself deal with this issue.  The first step to helping myself was to block all text messages from his number.

Finally, a sense of relief took over as I realized I would not be waking up to these hateful text messages.  I could finally move past this and move on with my life.

Drunken Text Messages Part II

Over the course of three days, my father had sent me a total of 56 text messages.  I did no respond to one of them.  As I said before, I did not want to fuel his fire even more.  After the three days, the text  messages stopped and I thought it was over.   Boy, was I wrong!

The first I had heard from my father, he said I had some junk mail, he wanted to know if he should send it over or if he could rip it up.  I still did not respond.

A week later, he said “your girl has some mail over here” he said he would try to remember to send it within the next two days.  I did not respond, yet we were unpleasantly unsurprised that my father had written “THANK GOD SHE DOES NOT LIVE HERE ANYMORE” on the envelope he sent back in the mail.

He wanted us to drop the keys to the house off to him,  the text message read “You have no reason, to come around my house anymore.  You and the girl.  I have tried to talk to you but you don’t respond.  So just drop the keys in the mailbox at your pleasure”.   However, we did not want to go over there by any means, so we just threw the key away.  I figured he was afraid we would do something to him or the house, but I did not have any such intentions of doing so, so I just kept ignoring what he sent to me.

My father went back and forth with the “compliments” offering what he called his “fatherly advice” and then turned right back around to cut me down.  He tried and tried to say the worst things to be from calling me names like “Sissy Boy” and other words and telling me to be my own man by “telling the girl to do the laundry, and cooking and washing the dishes!”.

He made it pretty clear that he thought the plan I had for my life was a big waste.  He also made it pretty clear that he did not like my girlfriend and was adament that she is bringing me down.  I still did not respond.

Drunken Text Messages

I did not start to read my father’s drunken text messages until I woke up the next morning to find more, and more were coming as I was looking at my phone.  He only sent five over the course of the night when I slept and when I woke up, I received 24 more text messages.  So, I decided to start reading to see what he had to say.  Naturally, the texts were jumbled with misspelt words, but I could still figure out what he was saying.

The text messages started out civil.  My father told me that he wished us the best and that I did a good job exiting the house.     After a few hours he started to talk about how I “s**t on him and chose ‘the girl'”.  The Girl, “let’s just call her that for now”, he said.

He told me I did him wrong and I have “disappointed him beyond belief”.  However, he changed his tone a half hour after he said that.  He told me that I was the “most respectful of all”.  This was probably because he started focusing on my girlfriend again.  He told me “Forget the girl, I saw you doing the laundry, doing cooking, doing everything. Trust me guy, you are working up a slippery slope.  Dump her ass!”

Is it wrong of me to help my girlfriend carry a heavy laundry basket down the stairs, is it wrong of me to help my girlfriend out with all the chores around the house?

“Save yourself from regret.  Save your good part from her”.  How did he become so angry at someone who cooked for him, cleaned his house and was nothing but nice to him the whole time she lived there?

After a while, the texts just started to blur together and become one insult after the other or a “smart” one-liner that he probably thought was clever.  It was like he was typing out this thoughts in the form of a text message.

A Sigh of Relief

It felt good to not have to smell a smog of cigarette smoke throughout the house, it felt good to be able to sleep without thinking someone was going to burn the house down in the middle of the night and it felt good not to hear the crack of a fresh beer every five minutes or the clinking of ice in a glass.  The best part of all, was that I was not afraid to walk around the house and I was not afraid of being stared down with every move I made and criticized for everything I did.

While I felt sad that in a way, my father was gone, I still felt a sense of relief and that a huge weight was taken off my shoulders as there was a lot less worry in my mind.  However, the wrath of my father was not over as he made sure he would get in his last word.

Starting late the night we moved (after we had gone to bed) the drunken text messaging began.  As I have said before, my father takes texting to a whole other level.  My father sent me texts starting around 5:00 PM and they did not stop until around 11:30 pm that night (25 text messages).  I did not respond because I did not want to fuel his fire, I figured all of the messages were going to be filled with hate.  Plus, I feel that I have already said my peace with him whether he remembers it or not.


Moving Day

A few days later, my girlfriend and I went back to the house to gather our things and load up our truck with what we could for the next two days.  My father was in the living room watching TV on the first day.  It was a little awkward because my father had just started drinking for the day, so he was relatively sober.  We had to take a few trips to the car and back through the house.  My father did not say a word to us.

When the car was packed to the brim, and as we were closing the trunk, my aunt walked up the driveway and asked us where we were going.  “He kicked us out”, I replied.

“What?” she said

“He kicked us out,” I repeated.

“Where are you going to go?”

“We don’t know”.  I did know where we were going, but I did not want my father to know.  I did not feel he had the right, plus my father has threatened people with violence before (somethings I did not want to include in this blog) and I did not want him to start anything with me or my girlfriend.

The next day, my father was not home.  We took advantage of this time and gathered as much of our belongings as we could.

Finally, it was the final moving day.  My girlfriend and I and a friend, rented a moving truck and headed over to my fathers where we were to pick up our couch, bed, and other large furniture so we could finally leave this place for good.  My father was on the couch, and was very pleasant to my friend whom he knew.  Not to mention, he was really drunk.

I’m assuming he did not want my friend to see him for who he really was because my father retired to his bedroom.  I’m also assuming he was turning in for the day as it seemed like he was drunk enough to have drank all night long (plus, there was an empty case of beer thrown on the counter, which proved my assumption).  So, we loaded up the truck swiftly, and left.

The Aftermath

It is now after 2 a.m.  My girlfriend and I had to be up in about five hours to be able to get ready and go to the wedding on time.  Subtract an hour from that and that is the time we woke up to pack our car with all the essentials we would need for a few days to hold us over until we could move the rest of our things out of the house.   With the car packed, and the dog in the backseat, we took our dog to my girlfriend’s mom’s house and left for the wedding.  We had to push the fiasco that we had been through to the back of our minds until the wedding was over.

This was quite a task for us to do because the looming sense that we did not have a place to go was hung over our heads all day.  I finally decided to call my brother, who told us we could come stay with him.  Thank God!  At least we had a place to go.  Now to deal with the rest of the wedding’s festivities.

At the end of the night, my girlfriend and I ended up crashing on my brother’s couch until the next morning, where we would figure out what to do next.  I was not mad at my father, as I had said my peace and found out how he felt (whether in a drunken stupor or not, I feel that some of the horrible things he had said the night before were somewhat true.  Especially since I have heard him say those things sober before).

All I knew is that my father will not quit drinking.  I can only hope that one day he manages to find his way to sobriety.

One Rainy Night Part IV

I know that you should never try to talk to an alcoholic when they are drunk.  I know they will deflect their problems on you or onto other people so they can continue to drink, guilt free.  I know he wasn’t thinking clearly and that he wasn’t listening to me, however, that night, I felt that I had to tell my father how I felt.  I had to make my last attempt to try and make him see that his drinking has caused problems in our family.

Back to the story, my father started to talk badly about my girlfriend, or “the girl” as he called her.  He said that she was not good for me, that she lives in some kind of “bizzaro world”  and is taking me down with her.  On a change of subject, he continued to tell me that I am different because of her, that I am less of a man, that she is no good for me, she is using me and she will never be happy with anything I could give her.  (Honestly, would any girl still be with me after all we had been through?  Any other girl would probably leave me after living in that house for as long as we did).

Naturally, I stuck up for my girlfriend, but I also told him that regardless of what he thought, the point of this little “chat” of ours is about how badly he needed help.  He just shrugged it off and said “OK, that’s your opinion”.