Hi,
my dad died on the 14th of January and I’m at a total loss.
When I was a kid and teenager my dad was kinda like my rock. I had a much better relationship with him than with my mom. He was super hands-on and spent a lot of time with me. We were always quite similar, shared a lot of interests. I could always count on him… Unfortunately, he became depressed over the years and started drinking. It took a long while for people to notice, because he socially functioned and hid it. I feel when we all realized it was already too late. He went to rehab several times over the last 10 years, but it didn’t work. He gave up/doctors gave up on him and he spent his last years literally drinking himself to death. I live/d with my parents/with my mom now, and the situation was horrible. He came home drunk each night and my mom and I had to take care of him … I want to point out that he never hit us; he was just so drunk we basically had to drag him into the shower, had to clean up after him when he had soiled himself etc.
I thought I hated him by that point. I said awful things to him like, “I hate you. I hope you die. You always talk about how you don’t want to live anymore. Well, kill yourself then so mom and I can have peace.” I refused to call him “dad” anymore, feeling like my dad died years ago and that man in front of me was a stranger.
On December, 17th he got admitted to the hospital to get checked out, he was on a regular unit, no emergency. However, in the 23th, in the middle of the night, his heart stopped. The doctors were able to bring him back… Intensive Care Unit, where they’d put him into a coma for a while. When they tried to wake him up, however, he wouldn’t. The doctors couldn’t figure out why. He would only wake up/open his eyes for maybe 10 seconds now and then, and then he fell back asleep. On January, 09th they said that they’d have to keep him on life support; his body was so ruined from drinking. They asked if that’s what he would’ve wanted. My mom said no, he once told her he didn’t want to be kept alive that way. So on January, 12th, my birthday, they took him off the machines.
I visted him everyday after the decision to “let him fall asleep”. I talked to/at him, about how I forgive him, how I hope he forgives me as well, about happy times, that I love him … I begged him not to leave me. He opened his eyes on my birthday and looked at me. I told him to squeeze my hand and he did. I held a picture of us in front of his face. He woke up for a second and looked at the picture. He couldn’t talk anymore. I didn’t get a “It’s ok. I forgive you. I love you” … I made the best of the situationship we were given, but it’s no closure in my opinion.
I’m so broken. Over the last few days it has only gotten worse. There’s no joy, only despair. I hate the world. I have no interest in anything. I can’t cope with the fact that I will never see him again, hear his voice … If this is what depression feels like no wonder he started drinking. I now want to tell him, I understand and I’m so sorry he was in such pain and that I only made it worse. I should’ve kept trying to help him. I should’ve at least seen that his life was coming to an end and to make peace while I still could’ve.
I don’t know what to do without him. My mom has seemingly moved on already and doesn’t understand my pain, which only reminds me of he was always the one to understand me. And now he’s gone. Forever. I miss him so much my chest aches. I can’t stop crying.