Last night I did it. I officially gave my dad the boot. 27 years old and my own father had given me enough greif that I was about to hit MY rock bottom... I don't want to hit a bottom... I want to start moving up!
We were able to keep him sober for about 1 month and 1 week with regular AA classes and just talking. Toward the end (the longer he was sober) the more "entitled" he would act. He began (still sober mind you) to make me feel bad for making him be the only one that "needs to quit everythnig" as I told him I wanted to help him quit his chew tobacco as I cant afford someone else nicotine addiction (especial since I quit my own cigarette addition) granted I am pregnant, but still...), he would make comments about how he want getting enough food to satisfy him and that he often had the munchies for Cola and candy bars since he was going through nicotine withdraws... as if it were my issue.
Reminder: I pay for ALL his food, clothes, rent and more. He doesn't work and HARDLY does any chores to compinsate me for working ten hour days to pay all the utilites, rent, food, etc...
I was willing to put up with his idiocracy about how im not doing enough for him and his sobriety; however, when I came home yesterday and seen him passed out sitting up, drooling all over himself... I broke. I have put so much effort into his sobriety and lived with the anxiety that everyday I came home home "what if he is drunk" rang through my head... the day has finally come.
I had given him reminders, encouragement and "tough love" about what would happen if he stayed sober vs decided alcohol was more important than the ONLY family he has left! His parents, siblings, other children- everyone had written him off as dead. I was the only naive one left for him so really leach from.
My marraige wasn't being torn apart, but has been being affected by him and it's time for me to ask how am I doing? How can I help ME make this work?
So i told him to jsut go... pack up and leave! He did. No where to go. (Now, he keeps coming back for little things he "forgot" and being at work I am not there to handle it.)
SO now I am left with guilt, sadness, worry, the feeling of change (which i HATE) and overall worn out. When will the call come that they found him badly injured? When will I see a post in the local newpaper asking for help IDing a body they found in the bushes? How long will he suffer of hunger and thurst before he either get help or dies?
I'm lost and desperate for encouragement... I myself might relapse back into my enabling ways!