Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Righteous Anger

I read posts like this and I feel her anger. I feel like its justified. I believe that God understands anger. I believe that God understands frustration and helplessness. And I think that it's OK to be angry about your circumstances to a certain extent. Sometimes, in cases like Jonah, I feel like Patrice has a right to be angry that she won't be able to see her son play sports. Or to give him big bear hugs and have tickle fights. I know I would be.

I also see Patrice's strength in those posts. Even when she is at her weakest. I feel that she believes and trusts in God, that she knows he has a plan. I know she gets frustrated and upset, because she is human.

Well, I'm angry. I don't know if it is righteous anger. But I am so mad. And right now, I am torn two ways. One part of me wants to get up in God's face and talk to him, to yell and scream at him. And part of me wants to just give him the cold shoulder. I don't know which one I want to go with.

Lots of big things are going on right now in my life. And yes, I'll explain more later but this isn't the time. But, I am so gosh-darn frustrated that my Dad just checks out whenever he wants. I'm tired of him being an alcoholic. I'm tired of going through the push and pull that being an alcoholics daughter brings. I hate that he misses out on so much of my life. And I am so PISSED that I miss out on HIS. It's a two way street. When he drinks, neither of us gets to spend time with the other.

Then, on top of everything else, I remember all the things I am mad at. All the things I missed out on. My Dad's alcoholism got really bad when I was born. My entire life he's been a binge drinker, and it's effected my life the most. For an example, today I was talking to my boss, Kim, and a few other people at work. I mentioned that what I really wanted, above anything else for my birthday was a bike. They kind of looked at me like I was crazy. And when they asked if I had ever had a bike, I said no. I wasn't taught to ride a bike until I was in the 5th grade. Then, when I learned, I used my sisters old bikes. I never got that, OH-MY-GOSH moment. (Note: I had my sisters bikes, which I am grateful for, but it wasn't like it was cleaned up with new tires and given to me. I dragged it out of the garage, sprayed the spiders off of it, and did what I could with it. It wasn't a special event like it is to so many people.)

What a flashback that gave me. I remember my Dad had been drunk the week before his 40 or 40-something birthday. On Saturday morning, He grabbed a half-way decent bike, and took me over to Monroe school, where he taught me how to ride a bike. I had been begging for years, weeks to learn, but he was always drunk during the weekends or it was never a good time. Thinking about it makes me so angry. 5th grade. FIFTH GRADE. Every major event in my life my Dad has missed. I remember being so scared that he would drink before every band concert or Peach Blossom contest. I remember looking at the crowd to see if he would show up, and my Mom would just smile and shrug her shoulders at me.

I get SO angry thinking about it. Throw something at the wall angry. So many memories were missed out on. So many birthdays and Christmases ruined. I always felt he put the bottle before me, before my sisters, before his wife.

And although he doesn't drink as often as he used to he still does. And it makes me mad. How could he? After all these years. After all that is happened. After what it does to his body. HOW CAN HE CONTINUE TO DRINK? How can he look at me, drunk as a skunk, and straight up lie to my face. How can he live his life this way?

On Monday, my Mom and I did something very important. Very exciting and important. On the way home, a song came on my iPod. A song I have listened to many times before. It was called "Sober" and it is sung by Pink. As I was singing it, at the top of my lungs, I started thinking about them. Then I started connecting things. Then I started crying. There I was, driving home from Fresno and all I could do was cry.

I thought about how my Dad doesn't even have that. He doesn't have this constant addiction. He doesn't need alcohol every day to function. He doesn't get happier when he drinks. He feels worse. And then he comes out of it, he feels nothing. He hasn't felt the presence of God in a long time. He doesn't know who he is or what to do with his life. He's just a floater.

Do you know that its nearly impossible to rehabilitate a binge drinker? They can go years - literally - YEARS without drinking. They can play the part better than any actor or actress. They can go through rehab, AA, church programs... everything without an problem.

So today, as I finish this post and get up to go work out so I can work my anger (and fat) off, I am hopeless. I won't ever have a normal relationship with my Dad. He will always be plagued by his addiction, and I will always be waiting for him to come out from the fog.

Until then, I keep going through the roller coaster. Some days I have hope, some days I want to cut off all communication, and some days I want to cry because of all the loss and heartbreak this has caused in my life, in my families life. And I will keep trying to believe that God has a plan, and His Will will be done.


PS - Sober by Pink:

PPS - I love my Dad so much.


  1. Hang in there sis. I know that you are coming to some very difficult realizations, but know that God put you here because you have a purpose of your own. Of course we want Dad to repent and be healed, and that might happen. Until then we continue to love him and honor him (because thats what the Bible says to do, whether we have stellar parents or not) and set healthy boundaries for ourselves and our families. I love you! Cant wait to see you this weekend!


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