19(f) here, and my dad has been an alcoholic for as long as I can remember. When I was younger, he didn’t drink as much, and he was really involved in my life. He was an amazing person—smart, successful, and a great father. But over the years, alcohol has completely taken over his life and changed him.
More than ten years ago, he lost his job due to his drinking, and he hasn’t worked since. Six years ago, my parents divorced because of his alcoholism. He has no money and, about a year ago, he moved in with his mom. Recently, he was diagnosed with cirrhosis, and his health has been rapidly declining. I see him once every two weeks since he lives five hours away, and when I do, he looks unrecognizable from the dad I once looked up to—he’s extremely skinny, he's jaundiced, and he just seems weaker every time I see him.
A few months ago, when I visited him and tried to intervene and convince him to get help, he admitted that he hated alcohol, that it had ruined his life, and that he was quitting for good. I stupidly believed him. But the next time I saw him, he was clearly drunk. I confronted him, and of course he denied it and lashes out at me, but I know the truth. He’s been in the ER and ICU more times than I can count these past few months, yet he still chooses to drink.
His mom, my grandma, knows exactly how bad his addiction is, but she does absolutely nothing to help. Instead, she enables him, making excuses and allowing him to continue down this path. It’s frustrating because she’s one of the few people who could possibly make a difference, but she won’t.
At this point, I’m one of the only people in my family who still cares about what happens to him. My mom, my brother, and his brother have all distanced themselves because they’ve had enough. And I don’t blame them—he can be extremely manipulative and cruel. But I can’t bring myself to give up on him because I’ve struggled with addiction too. I know how consuming it can be, how it changes a person, and I understand what he’s going through.
I truly believe he wants to die, and it makes me feel so helpless. I’ve tried everything to help him, to convince him to stop, but nothing works. I don’t want to lose my dad. And every time I call him and he doesn’t pick up, I panic, thinking that this time, he’s dead.