Brandon, if I may-it's called addiction. My father is one of the best examples on the planet. He is the worst kind of addict-the one who no matter how screwed up his addiction can get, and no matter how many times he promises me and my sister he will get help, he instead tries to mask his addiction. At one point in his life, he was fairly successful, working as a regional manager for an import/export company, which eventually went bankrupt. Soon after, he took his small fortune, moved to Florida, and engaged in dangerous behaviors, using drugs, and having unprotected sex. I was then born, and he realized he needed to stop taking hard drugs. [according to my mom, he was a cokehead, and occasionally used speedballs, etc.] He then resorted to alcoholism. My mother said that this was the darkest time in her life. He was in his mid thirties, jobless, and so unresponsible, that she sent me to a daycare run by a neighbor, because she couldn't trust my drunk father at home. She was working full-time, with two children, and spent her entire weekend doing food shopping, cleaning, etc. Meanwhile, my father would go to the bar, get drunk, etc. Then it got to the point where they fought, and eventually escalated to him pushing her, and breaking her wrist. A week later, we left Florida, with $50, a $30,000 medical bill, and a small '89 Saab filled with whatever we could pack it with, and took the train to New Jersey where my Grandparents lived. [Mind you, since my mom's wrist was broken, I had to help her pack and was only 5 at the time]
She now is quite successful. In a month or two, we are planning on buying a three bedroom townhouse, and all her debt is paid off. My father has recently moved up here too, and visits often, but stilll insists on drinking. My sister went over to his apartmend just last saturday, and said she found a stash of over 15 beer cans. On top of his alcoholism, he has COPD, a Fatty Liver, Adult-onset Type 2 Diabetes, Emphysema, Diabetic Neuropathy, has had three heart attacks, and actually was pronounced dead twice a few years back. Yet, no matter how many times you beg him to stop or reminded him of what he did in the past, he just ignores you. Don't get me wrong, when he's sober, he's extremely funny, and laid back. He actually did go to treatmend a few times, when me and my sister threatened to sever communication with him, but he relapsed after a month.
Moral of the story; You have to help people help themselves, and while our 'success' with my father was brief, sometimes people just resist treatment, and have real problems.
