Ms Forland writes:
I don’t go to my alcoholic father’s house as much as I used
to… but do pass it on the way to work. I phone him often to “check in” but when
I don’t get an answer a knot forms in my stomach and won’t go away until I hear
from or see him. This week it was about two or three days and since he had
received his check for his pension recently, I figured he was on a bender.
Dead or Alive? Dead or Alive? Those thoughts keep going
through my head as I drove to his house a few days ago.
I shoveled his driveway and steps and was comforted to see
footprints in the snow leading to his door. I could not bring myself to
actually go into the house. I figured he was plastered or dead, or in bed
asleep since he sleeps all day and drinks all night.
The next day, I couldn’t handle the stomach pains from the
anxiety of not knowing if he was dead or alive, so I went to his house again.
As I walked up to the door, I threw salt on the steps and waited to see if the
front door would open on its own. It did not.
I walked in, paused and listened for sounds of life. Both
the TVs were on full blast. Dead or Alive? I slowly walked through the kitchen.
The counters and table were cluttered with empty bottles of rum and vodka among
the food and dirty dishes. Dead or Alive? I entered the living room, some
papers were scattered everywhere along with plates of food on the floor. There
was no sign of him on the main floor. No blood or vomit. Good sign, right?
Dead or Alive? Dead or Alive?
Upstairs, I pause and listen. Quiet. Dead or Alive? I took a
deep breath and slowly walked to his bedroom. Dead or Alive? I turn the corner
and can see into his room. TADA! There he is. I see his body move slightly and
I know he is still alive. I sneak backwards out of the room, turn and go down
the stairs and, quietly but quickly, out the door.
As I drove home, I could feel my stomach knots unravel and
relax. I’m good. That is until the next time.
Detaching is one of the hardest things ever needed when
someone we love is addicted to alcohol or drugs. The problem seems to be more
complicated when detachment is needed between children and parents or vice
versa. I always have the option of leaving and forgetting about my husband, but
it never feels like an option for a parent to leave a child or a child to leave
a parent. Those ties cannot be cut by a bunch of legal words on a
court-recorded document. The ties are binding for life.
I admire Ms Forland for finding a way to satisfy her need to
protect him and, at the same time, protect herself. I know that what she wanted
to do was wake him up and shake some sense into him. I know I would have had a
hard time resisting that urge. I admire her for not cleaning up his house,
stocking his refrigerator with healthy food and thereby letting him believe she
will take care of his messes. She was able to recognize HER need to know if he
was still alive and once that need was met she did nothing more. Nothing more
would have done anyone any good or made her feel any better.
If the person had been her child, I think it would have been
even harder for her to walk out the door. It’s so extremely hard to keep those
maternal protection instincts from kicking in and trying to save the child from
imminent danger. Sometimes trying to save the child in that moment only teaches
them they can depend on the parent to always come to their rescue. That in turn
prevents them from actually taking responsibility for themselves and saving
their own lives.
I think it’s normal for each of us to think we would know
what we would do if we were placed into a certain situation. The fact is that
we never really know how we will react or what we would do. There are so many
scenarios to life, it’s impossible to imagine every which way we would turn in
the real event. Sometimes we just react instinctively and other times we think
things through to a rational end. The
main thing to remember is that no matter what we do, we will always do what we feel
is the right thing in whatever the circumstance and in that instant. It may not
seem right to others, or in my own hindsight, but there is no need to feel
guilty or accept others criticism. Pushing down those feelings of guilt are
sometimes harder than doing what you felt was right at the time.
As for me, I fight the “guilt-monster” every single day.
But, I am confident I’ve always done what I felt was the best thing to do at
any given time and in any given circumstance based on the information at hand
and from my previous experiences. To do any less would be like trying to revive
the Pansies I planted last spring.
