Watching a Parent Be Consumed By Alcoholism
A story of addiction and the father I lost
We all have our pet peeves, things that irritate us to a point of near madness. Maybe you can’t stand it when someone talks with food in their mouth. Perhaps you feel your rage rising to the surface when you’re being micro-managed. I, on the other hand, absolutely can’t stand it when people say two things:
- That video games promote violence.
- That daughters need their fathers.
I can’t explain the level of frustration I feel when someone utters either of these beliefs. The first phrase pisses me off for obvious reasons: I love video games. I grew up with them. They hold a very special place in my heart and, to this day, I warrant them with helping me through severe bouts of depression and anxiety in a way that seems would’ve been impossible without them.
The second phrase, however, runs a bit deeper.
My father always wanted a son. When I was born, he was excited to welcome me into the world. Still, he’ll admit to anyone who will listen that he had hoped for a boy. When my sister was born three years later, he was disappointed once again. Still, he loved her. Then, four years later, he would persuade my mother to try just one more time for a boy. Again, he would be…
