@cnnka I definitely resonate with your post. I can tell, even in so few words that we have shared a lot of similar experiences and emotions. When you mentioned almost beating your Dad to death at 16... man I hear that. I had always been very afraid of my Dad. What do you expect as a child, Mom is getting beaten, you're being screamed at to the point you're almost pissing your pants? When I was 14 I hit my Dad for the first time. I remember the fear in my body instantaneously turning to pure rage as I ran full speed at him, tackled him and started punching him in the face. I was still too small to really do anything. However, that was the day that I became a man... Bar Mitzvah be damned. I had felt powerless. The fear I felt made me feel like a little bitch. I loved my Mom so much, but I couldn't/wouldn't protect her. When I finally snapped, it was a totally liberating experience. My Dad went from confident to panicking, crying and saying to my Mom "there is something wrong with him, can you believe he just attacked me for no reason?" or something to that effect
We all know how crazy and irrational we can be when we are in active addiction. It made total sense to my Dad that I should be punished severely for hitting him "for not reason", but that his violence was not ever to be acknowledged or discussed. I told my Dad next time I would kill him and I was totally freaking the fuck out, crying, screaming and making animal noises as I tried to bring my rage down. I'm not even an angry person. I have problems like every human, but anger is just not one of them. In that moment, I guess I was feeling how people feel who can't control their anger, because I felt like the rage was filling my body from head to toe and if it weren't released I would just explode.
I wish I could remember specifically, but my Dad never hit my Mom again. It was either that day or directly after, the violence ended. The bad behavior continued, but my Mom was safe and I felt like I had done the right thing.\
My Dad stopped drinking when I was 16-17. This was due to an ultimatum from my Mother. He was arguably just as bad, worse or perhaps just bad in a different way after he stopped drinking because he was a dry drunk. He didn't seek help, try to do anything for his heart or his soul or try to find happiness. He just started locking himself in his office, smoking weed all day and becoming more isolated than ever.
When I was out of the house and in college, that's the first time my Dad asked me to get him drugs. The first time, it was just weed. My Dad was giving me a ride back to my apartment. He then pulls out a syringe and says "so, what is this for?". I naturally assume I'm about to get rumbled. I look down in shame and say "painkillers" (not Heroin). He just says, "you can't be doing that shit man". The conversation then turns to how he "used to really love smoking weed"' - mind you, he has been smoking weed for my entire childhood and way, way more since he started drinking. I mean, you would have to be some kind of stupid not to pick up on these things. I humor him.
He says he is going on a trip and just wanted to try it one last time. He then takes out $300 cash and says 30% of it is mine, ostensibly for me to also buy Cannabis with. In reality, we both knew full well that I would be using that money on Heroin. Also in reality, I would sometimes take a bit more than my 30%.
I ended up getting Cocaine a few times. I was a junkie and laser focused on my dope at that point in my life. I apparently didn't care that my Mother was still at home with my Dad and that I was essentially giving him the fuel he needs to terrorize my family. I feel like this is one of my worst acts as an addict. I took money from a man that is a hop, skip and a jump away from being my nemesis and I am enabling the problems that have caused my Mom, whom I love, pain.
This arrangement went on for years. Bear in mind, this is ~2008-2013ish. Weed was not legal and people still murdered each other over it just like other drugs. For someone with a career or anything to lose, a Cannabis charge could certainly ruin a person's life. A good friend of mine, back in that era, caught a Felony for Cannabis possession while in Arizona and oblivious of the law. But, I digress.
Now that my sob story is complete, some closing statements. Like I said,
@cnnka I enjoyed your response. I believe that as children, we are always looking for safety, love etc. The world is so massive, but as a child, your world is as big or as small as your guardians dictate. When your environment is just a house, there is nowhere to hide. I remember just wishing I had a little secret place, a crawl space or something, where nobody could find me until I knew the shit was over. I remember wishing so badly I had a place to hide, but there was nowhere to hide in that world. The insults and verbal abuse were a way of "take your Dad's abuse with you wherever you go! So convenient".
Opioids were that hiding place. Heroin was the hiding place. It's like the feeling of your Mom holding you as an infant and knowing you are safe, you're loved and at least in that one moment, all of the love is for you. You are swaddled, warm, protected, being held by the person who loves you more than anything or anyone else. I know, I'm a big fat Mama's Boy. Talk shit all you want. If you had my Mom, you'd be talking about her all the time too; she is really that good. She has been the runner up for the "RedBook: Best Mom in America" competition twice. If RedBook didn't hate Jews, she would've won
What are we even talking about? Aliens?