I didn't get into the christmas spirit so much this year.
In fact I just didn't have the heart for it. But I survived, I guess. One thing I could not bring myself to do-no matter how many times I tried to tell myself I should- I could not make that phone call.
The phone call that should have been "Hey Dad. How are things your way? The kids are growing like weeds. Working all the time still....etc, etc,etc." Instead it would have been,"When are you going to grow up? What did you do this time and how many years are we looking at? Did you think about your grandkids before you went on your pity me soap box and drank so much you lost your mind again. Since when is your selfish needs more important than that of the rest of the worlds? ......? And I would have ended up having the same conversation I've been having with him since I was 5. I just didn't have the heart anymore. I knew long ago that nothing I ever said would change his messed up view of how the world should be to him. He needs help and lots of it. I just couldn't give him that one phone call, because I was tired of giving. period.
Maybe I'll regret this, but I just didn't have it anymore. I'm 29, he's 47 and supposed to be grown up already. I think he's just afraid of living without his oblivion. I think he doesn't want to know the world for what it would be without drunk eyes. He's afraid of what he might see.