Of divorce and war, I don’t know which my father blames more for his misery, but they are the only two topics he wants to talk about. On Christmas day, it was divorce. When he should have been asking about presents and stockings, he was carrying on about how he’s been robbed of a wife and his future. I passed the phone to a sister.
A few times, when support and sympathy couldn’t rouse him from his self-pity, I’ve become contentious, throwing logic, like stones, at a crazy old man. Here is the hard truth, I say, taking aim, feeling smug and powerful and right. And then ashamed and sorry. And cruel. Because, what kind of a person takes satisfaction in overpowering the weak?
Loving someone with a mental illness sometimes feels like a punishment. For a sin I don’t remember committing.
For years now, I’ve been straddling the divide between reality and the sad, twisted world my father has created for himself. As time wears on and those two worlds grow further and further apart, I’ve struggled with the idea that I must either become smarter, deal with it better or fail, and be ripped apart with the shifting.
Last week, I decided I was done. Not done loving or caring, but done straddling. Putting both feet firmly on the reality side of the line, I told my father I would no longer indulge him in his wallowing. I wouldn’t respond to even one more email about my mother and her new husband, wouldn’t let another lie go unchecked. Then I told him I loved him.
He may have heard me and understood. He may have decided I was just like the rest of them – another black-hatted villain in his serial melodrama. But my guess is the latter, since I haven’t heard another word. I should be sorry or worried. I know I should. But mostly, I am relieved. And disappointed in myself for how good that feels.
Congratulations. I’m glad that you have freed yourself from your father’s world, that you are firmly in your own life, and that you were still able to say “I love you.”
Wishing you a very happy and healthy new year. Here’s to a 2007 filled with the strength not to straddle and the compassion to want to anyway… and more strength because that might just be what’s needed most when loving someone with a mental illness. I hope your dad realizes how much you love him. Whether it feels like it or not, he’s lucky to have you.
I had to do the same thing with my father a few years ago. It sucked, but I must say, life has been a whole lot better (and less dramatic) since then.
Good luck.
good for you. not to get into specifics, but i too have a similiar relationship with my dad and i know how hard and draining it can be. stay strong
When one has a mental illness, being loved by another is no picnic, either. I am a wallower. I’m sad and lonely and, when I’m alone in the quiet hours when my mind hatches its little schemes against myself and proves beyond a reason (which is where I live) that I am worthless, I am such an abject failure at describing this misery to my lovely friends. Poor souls. They so want to understand why I hate me. But they can’t hear the cacophony inside my head. And I’m a poor instrument at interpreting it for them.
Oh.
I just did something similar with an ex-, someone with whom I’ve shared a contentious relationship/friendship for ten years. Mine was far more protracted a ‘truth-telling’, but I hear everything you’ve said here and felt its resonance, especially the final sentence. You did what you felt was right, as guided by both your heart and head.
Good luck with this and with everything else in 2007.
Sometimes enough is enough, and no matter how much you love your dad, you have obviously have had enough. I think you dealt with it- you did what you decided you needed to do- thats good. Now he needs to deal with it. Happy New Year.
Bless your heart, tough decision. Please understand that by allowing him to wallow is not good for him and certainly not for you. I have someone in my life like your father and when I do have occassion to speak with him and he starts in I say, “I’m not going to talk about that, let’s change the subject.” If that doesn’t work I leave or hang-up.
Hang in there and Happy New Year
I am proud of you, Fish. I have merely slinked away from a poisonous relative, since I know in my heart ever telling the truth would fall on deaf ears. And part of me beats myself up for it. No more. The old “pearls before swine” parable applies. You’ll lose your pearls, and probably get bit in the process. My pearls are now offered only to people who don’t bite.
Leave the guilt for the guilty. You said it yourself, you comitted no sin.
There is no shame in trying your best, my dear.
Sometimes you have to take a step back from those people to allow them to take responsibility for their words and choices.
By indulging them it saps your own emotional energy. I believe Oprah called it a toxic friends but in my experience, toxic family is the worst.
Good for you, Fish. Whatever your father is now, at his core (and at his best), he loves you and wants you to be everything you can be. If he were not ill, he would recognize the effect his toxicity has on you, and he would encourage you to do what you can to help him without drowning yourself in his illness. You still have love and compassion for him, but you can set limits on how much his illness gets into your life. It’s not an easy decision to make or implement, but those decisions are necessary. Hang in there!!
Dear Heather,
Happy New Year & here’s wishing you a wonderful one. I felt your pain jump out at me from this posting & I had to respond. Always know that taking care of yourself is a great thing…we are never responsible for someone elses’ feeling–if if they are our alcoholic & mentally ill dad.
Hang tough. I know that it will not always be easy…but you deserve the peace of mind. Please take this suggestion or leave it at will…but ACOA or Alanon can really help.
Hugs & love to you
I’ve met or had to deal with quite a few people like you described… including your father. I’ve found the most sucessful encounters are the brief ones. If you see them, give them a hug and say thanks for being you. If you talk to them over the phone (more likely in your case), say you don’t have time to talk but you wanted to say I love you.
It’s better if you don’t give much time to respond or contradict you. With my family I deal easily with them because I live far away from them. They just get the brief phone calls on major holidays. If they really need help they have my number.
I know what you feel. My dad also suffers from mental illness and it is hard to know the best response, then deal with the guilt of responding poorly.
Best of Luck!
It’s sad to see that so many of these commenters are so detached and selfish (i.e., Julene, above). When someone in your family is mentally ill, or addicted, or afflicted in some way that you – and most others – can’t really imagine or understand, it’s really hard to say what is the ‘right’ thing to do. But it must certainly be wrong to abandon them. And it certainly seems wrong to place yourself on a podium of judgment. Just because you do not share his reality does not mean that you are right or brave to turn your back on his world. There are few things more important than family, and while sometimes you may feel as if there’s nothing you can do, you can still try harder.
Wow, that sounds really, impossibly difficult. I’m so sorry! I know it sounds trite and like a weak solution, but I’ll say a prayer for your Dad, because it seems like he needs a miracle – something new to hope for and be excited about. Stranger things have happened
Hang in there!
I share in your frustration about a father who suffers from a mental illness, and I give you huge props because at least you manage to speak with yours. I haven’t talked to mine in 4 months. At least you have the courage to set boundaries and tell him that you’ll still speak with him just under your conditions…I just can’t manage to face the conflict. Good luck!
Fish,
I am happy for you and oh so inspired by you! You said the 3 important words and you listened… You did what was best for your father and you.
I’ve been in somewhat similiar shoes- this New Year’s Eve to be exact! My father left my mother in 2001 for a much-younger woman and left me to care for my mother who has mental illness. My mother has built a new life for her self that includes a not-perfect but wonderful man. She is happy. On New Year’s she was surrounded
My father now suffers from depression and is alone. He misses his family and spent New Year’s alone. He dropped by my house, where I was with my boyfriend, and looked so sad and forlorn. I could have invited him in with my boyfriend and me but I did not. I wanted to be alone with the new man.
I felt bad for him but I also realised I need to make my own life. (He made his own life and his own decisions).
Thanks for sharing your inspiring courage; it made me feel better as I wondered if I should feel guilty!
oh honey, i’m so sorry. Thinking of you and hope he finds successful help or treatment.
I know you’re not trying to abandon your father; you never said or did any such thing. For your own sanity, and in order to continue to be there for him in whatever small way is possible, you need to have boundaries that keep you firmly in reality and protect you from being sucked into his world. It hurts so much not to be able to save the people we love, and all we can do is keep ourselves mentally healthy and let them know we love them. I go through this every day with my little sister, and it is painful, but would be even worse if I compromised my own sanity. Good luck, to you and to him.
Fish….I wonder if some day my child might face the same kind of conversation with her father. I hope she can be strong and take care of herself first. We don’t owe any other adult a debt that takes away our own ability to function.
It may take a while for your dad to respond, but whatever you do, don’t make the next move and apologize without his reply first. Sometimes tough love and reality, and time as well, are all it takes to bring oneself back into reality. He may be upset with you at first, but it’ll make him think hard for a while nonetheless.
Of course this is not to say I know everything there is to know with your relationship with your dad, but just that sometimes everyone needs some tough love. =)
I don’t know if you have done this yet but….have you consulted a professional about the best way to deal/approach your father?
either way wishing you and your father well
Just don’t kick yourself if you miss it and get him going again. It only takes one lead and he’ll be back with a vengeance.
Speaking both as someone who lives with a mental illness and as someone who has loved many others who are ill (including a parent), I must say congratulations to you for taking care of yourself. And, also, thank you for being willing to write honestly about a difficult topic. I think if more people were able to speak openly about mental illness, it wouldn’t be so hard for those who need it to seek help. Good luck to you.
The best to you, Fish. I am sure that was very difficult, long time coming as it may have been. I had to cut a destructive uncle out of my daily life not long ago and there is a guilt that never completely goes away. I think, though, that it just means we care.
This is very strange timing for me reading this because just TODAY, I made the same decision with my father. He is a narcissist who treated my mother horribly and now wants his children to jump into his new life (with wife who is…yes…my age) with open arms. When we don’t he rages and tantrums and verbally abuses us. I’ve had enough and am walking away. I totally relate to what you are saying and support your decision and totally know how hard it is. I say you HAVE to do what’s right for you even if it hurts a little bit. Nobody has the right to take you down with them, don’t let anyone tell you its selfish.
Don’t be too disappointed in yourself.
A few years ago I ended a relationship with someone who had been in my life for about 20 years, she was struggling with mental illness. While I did not have to struggle with the added guilt of this person being a family member, she was my closest friend. Some felt I was harsh in my decision, most understood. I was taking care of myself. Only I could live my life, not my friend, or anyone else.
Her illness was not my responsibility, nor is your father’s yours. If he choses to be in your life, so be it, if not, that is his choice too. We can make choices to be well or not be well, and you chose to be well. Brava!
My mom has frequent bouts of depression – she has for years – and sometimes she takes medication, and sometimes she doesn’t. For the most part, she’s stable, but I realized recently that I’ve spent the better part of my life feeling responsible for her happiness. In 2007, I will love my mother the best that I can, but I have to realize that I can’t give her everything she needs and that she has to take care of herself. I only wish that I could find a nice, kind way of going about doing that…
I know that it’s a huge struggle and challenge to watch someone you love suffer and feel that you can’t and shouldn’t do anything to stop what they need to go through themselves.
Fish, I guess there comes a point when you have to save yourself. I hope you can deal with dad better when you have less invested in the outcome.
As someone who suffers from a mental illness, I feel confused about the subject. I believe that you did wonderfully Fish, because you didn’t cut him out of your life completely, you just drew some boundaries which is healthy. But yet, it can be hard when you’re suffering to understand those boundaries. Regardless of how I feel, I am glad that you feel better. We must do what’s right for us sometimes so we can be stronger for others in the future! I love your blog!!!!
Heather,
First let me say that a year ago I made the choice to disengage from my own father’s self destructive behavior. It was a choice that took years in the making but in doing so I am much better off. I still love my dad and maintain some contact with him but I don’t allow that contact to hurt me anymore. However, as a person who suffers from a “mental illness” (the same one I believe genetically bestowed upon me by my father) I felt slighted by this comment: “Loving someone with a mental illness sometimes feels like a punishment. For a sin I donât remember committing.” Yet I don’t remember committing any sin either and I’ll have to live with my illness everyday for the rest of my life. I doubt you would say the same thing about a cancer patient or even that you meant to offend me (or other people suffering from mental illness) so please be careful with your words next time. There is enough stigma attached to my real, chemical, illness already.
I meant every word of that.
Regardless of whether it is fair or nice or not, that is how it feels. Mental illness is a no-win; everyone suffers. And I refuse to hide how I feel because someone might be offended. I’m sure my father is frustrated constantly because I can’t understand him. I’m sure that feels equally or more punishing, and it wouldn’t offend me in the least to hear him express it. And yes, were one of my parents suffering from cancer, and the burden of their care fell to me, I would probably feel punished. No matter that no one is at fault, feelings are what they are.
I will not be more careful with my words. Those were chosen quite precisely because that is how I feel. And I highly doubt that expressing it adds to the stigma. Because if the comments are any indication, all it does is open people up to conversation and understanding.
I support you in that comment, Fish. Mental illness has a much more poisonous effect on family than cancer. And, for my family at least, it lasted years and years and years until my dad died. This past Christmas was sad because it was the first without him, but I was ashamed at how happy I was to have an uncomplicated, joyful Christmas. I am just as crazy as my father (but hopefully am better medicated and more aware) and you didn’t offend me at all, Fish.
And I know I don’t have to add this, but my father was a brilliant, kind man and I loved him so much. He was just kind of hard to live with.