My dad was a mentally ill alcoholic.  Which came first the depression or the alcoholism?  I don't know.  They fed each other.  And ultimately they led him to picking up his gun, loading it, putting it to his head, forgetting about anything he may have owed his children, and pulling the trigger. 

I missed him desperately and idolized him endlessly growing up.  Once I was old enough to understand his death and my childhood of loss resulted from his weaknesses, idolization turned to anger.  I would never have been so weak I stupidly declared.  I would never do to my family what he did to us.  I would have been strong.  I would have never allowed the addiction to win. 

Sometimes I think God uses such things to teach us a lesson.  Or maybe he doesn't.  Maybe it's all genetic.  His weaknesses are mine.  His struggles, now also mine.  The depression he and his brother shared, now visit me too. 

I've escaped bondage to alcohol though.  Mainly by avoiding it like the plague, knowing subconsciously I would fall into the same trap.  Instead I've filled myself up with sugar.  And I play the same "give and take" game with depression and food that he did with alcohol.  I've even considered suicide.  Seriously.  Developed a plan.  Worked it through in my mind.  Fantasized about an ending to the struggles I just never seem to solve. 

And somewhere along the path I woke up and realized… I'm my dad.  I'm the one I hate.  I am walking in his shoes, failing just as he did, no better than him.  And still I don't forgive.  Still when I'm not fantasizing about killing myself I'm fantasizing about beating this addiction I have to an unhealthy lifestyle.  Beating it and SHOWING HIM.  That is still my motivation for wellness… proving to him he didn't have to hurt us.  He didn't have to be so FUCKING WEAK and hurt us.  Hurt me. 

I can't forgive him.  I am the most compassionate person you'll ever meet.  I'm a nurse, I care about others and their struggles every single day.  I understand them, I feel for them, I never blame them.  I only blame him and myself.  For us I have not one ounce of give. 

How many days sober it asked above?  None.  Never.  I eat unhealthy crap every day and hate myself for it.  Tomorrow I'll change I tell myself as I look around a house I never get to cleaning anymore.  As I think about a life I ceased living a long time ago.  It's all about food.  What will I eat next, where will I get it, how will I fix it.   And after that…and after that… It never ends.  No matter how much I beg it too.  It's never enough.  I'm never full.  I'm never sated.  Only exhausted and physically incapable of more. 

I'm my father.  Wallowing in addiction while those around me judge and turn away in disgust.  Or is it me that I see.  The me I used to be standing afar, gazing in at what I've become, judging me, damning me, hating me… before turning her perfect physically and emotionally healthy self away in disgust. 

How many times have I said I'm done… Enough… It's over NOW.  No more will I eat to excess, or fail to exercise, or ignore my responsibilities and chores, or let my life pass me by.  How many more years am I going to wallow here.  How do I get out of here.  I don't want the exit route my father chose.  I want a path of health.  I've been there before.  I want to return.  How many times will I write these words???!  HELP ME I want to scream at the heavens.  Pull me from this hell I've created, help me turn away from that which destroys me. 

Maybe, I'm beginning to see.  It's just never going to happen until I forgive.  Truly and with my whole heart, mind and soul… just forgive and let go.  Realize he doesn't deserve my anger.  That he was a victim as much as I am.  That he saw no other way out.  That maybe a part of him even, unbelievably, thought it could be best for us.  Spare us of years of a nightmarish existance with him.  That the grip depression and alcohol had on him were not his fault.  That he didn't suffer a weakness of character. 

"Do you understand this lesson yet, my child?"  I imagine God asking me.  "Have you suffered enough.  Do you get it?  Can you forgive him and be free now?  Can you move on?  Reach for my hand dear.  You can't do it alone.  Anymore than your father could.  Let me help you.  Realize the weakness was not in failing to resist temptation, but in failing to recognize redemption.  No one can conquer such demons alone.  This is the lesson to be learned.  Now, you know.  Now, you can forgive.  Reach out now and walk with me, child.  That's a girl.  That's my girl.  Welcome Home."