At this point during my stay with my father, his unusual sleeping pattern that revolved around the amount of alcohol in the house caused him to be awake at odd times. Sometimes he was up in the late morning, sometimes he would wake up from mid to late afternoon, but he was always up during the night.
I am not going to lie, it was peaceful when he did not wake up until late afternoon, because I would be able to work without being distracted from all the things that made me cringe about my father’s actions. The things I would cringe about were the the only way I could tell that he was awake.
I would cringe when I would hear the crack of a beer or the sound of ice clinking in a glass. These were the noises I usually heard when he first woke up. I would also cringe at the smell of his cigarettes and the sound of his text message notifications.
I cringed at the can and the ice because it disgusted me to think that this was his “morning” routine that would continue for the next few hours until he either blacked out or actually went to bed to sober up and get more alcohol. Besides that, a drink would always accompany the first of many cigarettes – he would literally smoke 2-3 packs a day with not so much of a crack of a window – and then the drunk texting began.
Since the day my father figured out how to text on his phone, he started to take it to a different level. He is known to send a book’s worth of text messages over a few hours without stopping. It made me cringe because he would only text when he was drunk, otherwise he would call whomever he was trying to talk to, and he would try to stir up drama with the person who texted him back.
Still, to this day I cringe at these noises (and the smell of his brand of cigarettes) because it reminds me of the turning point in my father’s drinking career, the point where he made a turn for the worst.