It's Your Fault

I can't get hold of my dad. my father, my old man as I call him when I'm angry. And angry I am. I would like to talk to him but he's gone, drowned in the ocean of alcohol. Still alive but not for long, I fear. 

I woke up in tears this morning, heart pounding, short of breath. I had a dream: my childhood house, it's dark inside. My father on the floor, drunk I guess. I'm standing next to him. We are trying to talk but the only thing he coming out from his mouth is: "It's your fault, it's your fault' it's your fault." I'm screaming to him on top of my lungs, I scream so hard that my voice doesn't seem like mine any more. It's a scream of pain and sadness, and extreme anger. "My fault? What is my fault!? It's not my fault that you chose to kill yourself?! Can you hear me?! It's not my fault!!!!" And I'm waiting for him to say: "It's not" and absolve me and give me a free pass to go but he is stubborn and repeats all over again "your fault, your fault, your fault." My demon, my curse, and my love. Because I do love my father.

But it's not my fault. His drinking is not my responsibility, I can't help him, I can't rescue him. Why am I even bothering to write this all? On morning like this, I feel and realize how much of guilt and sadness is still in me. I like to think that I've come a long way and I understand but what he does still hurts so much. And especially now, when Helena will be born... I'm glad she will never see him this way, on the floor but my heart bleeds when I think of a man I used to know, the one I would like her to know - my father who used to be different. Used to be...

"Sit still and observe this pain flowing through your system. Don't deny but embrace, accept, sit still... make it your friend and not enemy and when that happens it'll loose its grip over you," says the friendly voice inside, the loving voice, the me, the parent inside, the compassionate and loving one, the one I need so much now.