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 V

After he shrugged off my pleas for him to get help I started to get angry at the fact that he was not listening to me.  I asked him why he did not take this seriously and he said that he was trying to quit drinking.  So, I reminded him about how he thought he was dying just a few weeks ago and after being in the hospital for a few days he asked me if I could stop at the store so he could get some beer.  “That’s not trying!”  I told him.

He interrupted me and said he was not in the hospital for a few days, he claimed he was there for over a week.  That right there proved to me that his condition was worse than I thought it was to begin with because it was apparent he did not have any reference of time.

I brought up a few other things I thought my father should consider like the fact that he blames all of his misery on everyone else and that I will not tolerate him talking badly about me, my girlfriend or my dog anymore.  I told him that as long as he is drinking, I can not be around him.  I told him that he needs to make a choice between his family and alcohol.

“Well, I’m not gonna quit drinking.”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”


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”.


One Rainy Night Part III

After about a half hour, my father got off the phone with my aunt.  My girlfriend was painting her nails for the wedding that we were standing up in the next day.  It was getting close to midnight and we needed to get some sleep.  However, my father was standing at the bottom of the stairs and said “We need to talk”.

So, I went to the top of the stairs and he said “you and your b***h girlfriend and your f***ing dog need to get the f*** out of my house” and walked back to the living room.  I followed.

My father repeated his threat and said “I don’t know what you are going to do, but you and “the girl” (the new derogatory way he referred to my girlfriend as) need to get out of my house as soon as possible”.  I told him that is fine by me, but I had to say my peace.  I did not  try to argue with my father, but I made my last attempt to get through to him.  I told him that his drinking has had a huge impact on all the relationships he had with everyone in our family.  From my brother to my mom to me.  To his sisters and brothers.  Everyone knew he was an alcoholic and did not want to see him this way.

Of course, pointing fingers at my father when he was already drunk made him want to point fingers at me.  My father decided to play the “there is nothing wrong with me” card and turned the tables over onto my girlfriend.


One Rainy Night Part II

I followed my girlfriend and my dog upstairs and once we sat down in our office to check emails we head my father throw a giant and very loud temper tantrum.  Of course he was drunk.  He was shouting obscenities such as “F*** dogs”, “Dogs ruin my life”, “F*** this, F*** that”.  And that continued for about five minutes until we heard him retelling the story to my aunt on the phone.

According to my father, it was not raining that hard.  In fact, he said he went outside after we went upstairs, looked up to the sky and held his hands out and it was barely a sprinkle (yeah, by that time!).  He told my aunt that we were just using our dog as a scapegoat for all our problems.

Then he started to talk about my girlfriend, again.  He said my girlfriend had a snide tone when she called our dog upstairs and he was sick of her walking around with her smug attitude (then mocked her).  He mentioned that she treats him like a dog by leaving food on the counter for him to get himself instead of serving him and he also said “along with all the other things she does that I have told you about”.

He also said he wanted me to come downstairs and hit him so he could call the police to throw me in jail, “right where I belong” (I have never had so much as a speeding ticket, by the way).  There was also talk about how this situation will not work out because he was a stranger in his own home.

Finally, I heard him tell my aunt that having a family did nothing for him.  Getting married, did nothing for him.  Having kids, did nothing for him and he regrets it all.


One Rainy Night Part I

One night, my girlfriend and I were at a rehearsal dinner for our friend’s wedding (that was the next day).  We had been out for quite a few hours and throughout this time there had been a constant stream of light rain.  On the drive home, the rain seemed to pick up a bit and my girlfriend mentioned that she hopes that my father did not leave our dog outside.  As I have mentioned before, my father has a track record of letting my dog out to go to the bathroom and forgetting about her.

When we pulled up the driveway, we could see my little dog in the backyard hiding under the patio table.  We sat in the car for a minute or so (not too long!) to see if my father would let her in.  No one came to the side door.

So, my girlfriend and I opened the garage, let our dog in with us and waited about five minutes more to see if my father would let her in.  Still, he did not come to let her in.

My dog’s fur was damp and it seemed like she had been outside for a little while, but it could have been hard to tell since we did not know how long she was under the patio table trying to stay dry.  This angered me that my father would do something like this, which is, leave a little 9 pound dog outside in the rain after I had specifically told him that he does not have to let her out and that I would take care of it.

As we walked to the side door to go inside I assumed he was drunk and forgot about her.  But, when I approached the door, something made me think that he intentionally left my dog outside.  When I tried to open the door, the door was locked!

My father came straight to the door.  He said, “Sorry, I thought you were at a wedding”.  Immediately, to my surprise, my girlfriend said “that does not mean you can leave our dog outside in the rain all night”.  I assumed my girlfriend was thinking the same thing I was: that my father let my dog outside with no plans of letting her in.  We were gone for the night, so that gives him free reign to let my dog outside all night so he could relax in peace without her “bothering” him, right?

My father must have been in shock that my girlfriend said something to him because he did not reply.  My girlfriend and I just walked past my father and took our dog upstairs to dry her off.

 


Tension in the Air

One creepy evening, after spending some time in the basement watching TV,  my girlfriend and I thought my father had gone to sleep which was our cue to sneak back upstairs to where we stayed.

This night, however, we misjudged the silence and as I turned the corner from the basement stairs, I saw my father staring at us.  My girlfriend was walking in front of me and as soon as she got to the next set of stairs to go to our living area, my father asked if I could talk to him for a minute.  I was leery about what he could possibly want to talk to me about.

My father began to talk to me about how my girlfriend and I were making it uncomfortable for him in his own house.  He proceeded to talk about how we were making the entire living situation awkward and he did not think he could live like that.  He said something had to change  (I remember thinking, “yeah, you need to stop drinking!”).

He brought up the fact that we walk by him several times a day and ignore him, especially my girlfriend.  He even went as far to say that she was the one who was creating tension around the house and walks around like a “smug, arrogant b***h”.  I had to remind him, once again, that she does a lot for him and he is the one who creepily stares us down.

I told him that when he is drunk, he is creepy.  I said that the reason we do not talk to him is because he is drunk all the time and I did not want to talk to him when he was drunk and did not want my girlfriend to either.  My father just played it off like he did not know what I was talking about.


The Routine

My father dove right into his old routine, just as I suspected.  This time, I couldn’t stand to see the sight of him.  I tried to avoid him at all costs.  This time, his drinking was a lot more darker.  Since the day he returned from his third trip to rehab, his mood seemed more ominous.

He rarely talked, rarely moved from the couch and would only take his eyes off the TV when my girlfriend and I would walk past him.  When we would be around him, he would stare us down.  It was a nightmare.

While my father had a routine of drinking day in and day out, my girlfriend and I had a routine of our own.  We would only go downstairs when my father was sleeping – or when we did not smell the smoke from his cigarettes (that’s how we knew he was sleeping).  We would still prepare dinner and keep up with chores, but we would only clean the living room -where my father spent his days…and nights – when he would go to the store to get a fresh case.

The only time we would be around him was when we would make dinner.  After dinner, we would spend a good portion of our nights and weekends at my brothers house.

Things were getting worse and you could feel it in the air.


Same Old, Same Old

The car ride home was pretty awkward.  I knew I was taking my father back home so he could pick up right where he left off.  My father continued to talk about the people, how EVERYone else had problems, and he was not like them, he did not have problems….right.

As we got closer to the house, my father asked me if I could stop by the store so he can pick up a case of beer.  Really?

“Are you [insert expletive] serious?!?! You want me to stop and get you alcohol on the drive back from rehab??!” I said… Does he not remember everything that happened a few days ago and why I had to take him to the hospital?

I did not take him to the store, instead I pulled in the driveway and walked into the house.  My father ended up taking the car and driving himself to the liquor store to bring back a case of beer…pathetic!

I could not even look at my father any more.  Seeing him drink completely disgusted me.  About every half hour, I would hear the fresh “crack” of a new beer.  That night, he drank the entire case of beer he bought earlier that day.