Today I’m working on my anger; unsuccessfully . My husband having just returned home from work in our home town informed me of the latest pharmaceuticals he uncovered in our home……dad’s latest score. I am almost forty-eight years old and thats as old as dads never ending hunger for alcohol and pills. In my younger days ; as the the child/parent to my parents ; when most kids were taking dance lessons and hanging out with friends ; my sister and I were parenting our parents. B ack then dads drugs of choice were Demerol and perks ; if you washed them down with six or seven beers ; it was enough to curb the inner prick. I guess some addicts get mean when they indulge mine became palatable. Dad was usually in the hospital for three months out of every year; I now refer to it as dads best fix. I would go in to visit him and he would be living a drug addicts dream……hooked up to his favorite infusion; drugs pumping through his veins twenty four seven. In the early years mom would go everyday; bringing him food and his favorite candies; he was really set up. Dad was a paramedic in the earlier days ; someone drug educated; he had the education to feed his addiction needs. We lived across the street from the hospital when I was a child; wonder why dad choose this house ; I’m sure if I could get my hands on his medical records detailing his numerous accidents and medical issues ; I might just uncover a treatment plan that would make any addict happy. Flash to the future; I’m an adult now still dealing with the addict. Every visit I have with him; my attempt to awaken the inner parent in him ; no where to be seen. I need rehab ; I want to go to the addicts pow wow to burden them with my lifetime serving of shame and anger , and rejection to awaken them to the reality of their selfishness.
Maybe when I go to a meeting and listen to their stories I will bring myself a drink to help take it all in.
An addicts adult child