The experiences I had growing up with an addict taught me to build walls to protect myself and build narratives that masks whatever is going on inside. For so long that mask had worked because no major event ever happened to me. Sure, I had my ups and downs in dealing with an functioning alcoholic father but nothing major that would alter who I thought I was or the life I had. It wasn't until my dad's DUI arrest, ICE detention and eventual deportation that I had to truly face my feelings, fears and the angriness had been brewing inside me for many years.
I've been feeling very lost since that period because I so badly want to go back to being the person I was before and I'm having a hard time accepting that I can no longer be that person. Just like you can't unsee something, you can't un-experience something. You can't un-hear something. You can't un-know something. I wish I could be in a Harry Potter movie so somebody could use the memory charm on me and I could forget everything that has happened but I can't.
What I'm saying is that the"past me" didn't have to constantly struggle with past feelings, emotions and doubts because they were buried so deep within and only became amplified after my dad's actions. I could live day to day with an easiness that came without having to face my emotions. I created a sense of freeness by shoving them down to a point of non existence because turning inward and having to deal with them was too hard. Having tough conversations is hard. Putting aside your pride and apologizing is hard. Being vulnerable and opening up to people about your darkest held fears is hard. It's especially hard when you are not used to vocalizing your feelings or expressing your feelings. When you've never been truly vulnerable.
All of a sudden the gate opened up and a rush of emotions came spilling out. I didn't know how to handle them and I ended up going through a very dark period where I felt alone, confused, and angry. There were days when I didn't want to wake up. I felt like I was weak for not being tough enough to hold it together and not cry. I felt I was weak because in my head I had all these questions lined up but when it came to asking them I would coward and pretend everything was just fine. "I'm fine, " "I'm good, " "Everything is great" became my slogans when in reality I was crying myself to sleep or crying in the grocery aisles after spotting a can of beans my dad used to eat all the time. The juxtaposed feelings of angriness and sadness hitting me at different times with varying intensities. I was confused. l still am confused.
How do you put yourself back together when the life you thought you lived and knew was a lie? who do you trust when you have found out so much information that was kept hidden from you? how do you know who is telling the truth when you are getting two different versions of a story from two people you trusted?
I don't know. I still don't know. Can you ever really know?
That's why I'm filled with anxiousness about seeing my dad for the first time in almost two years. We've never had the chance to sit down and have an honest conversation about what took place, his ownership of his actions or about all the new truths that surfaced during the whole time we were dealing with the situation. I haven't been able to ask him the deep burning questions I have playing over and over in my head. I'm scared. I'm scared because I don't know if I'm going to like what I'll hear. I'm scared that I won't believe what he is telling me. I'm scared that I will lose my relationship with my him. I'm scared about all those things but my biggest fear is that I'll find out he's drinking again.
I don't think I can face that harsh truth. Addiction is hard to beat and living with an addict forced me to build walls to protect myself with false narratives. I made excuses for him. I lost sleep over waiting for him to come home safe after drinking too much. I lost an example of a healthy relationship because of his constant cheating. I lost myself.
This whole situation he put me through with his DUI arrest, ICE detention and deportation left me broken. It shattered me beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I'm still picking up the pieces and trying to tape myself together and I don't think I could handle knowing that he went back to the one thing that is at the root of everything......his alcohol addiction. Wouldn't hitting hard bottom be enough to make a change?
I don't know. I just don't know. But I did read somewhere that "you grow outside your comfort zone" so I'm making the trip and I'm going to find out because I don't think I'll be able to move on until I have answers, even if they aren't the ones I'm looking for.
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