Note: this is about the most influential men in my life and the only two people who, more than likely, won't read this...
Before I post my entry about my first, large bipolar 'low' since starting new medication, I'd like to share this. It's going to be easier to write and it's been a long time coming. It was prompted due to a recent, vivid dream... the kind that you have when you're withdrawing from a chemical. They're sometimes scary, but always poignant and intense.
Six people were sitting in a fairly ordinary living room - me, my mother, my sister, my step-father, my real father, and his new, rather young son.
The conversation was terse and tense, with many pauses, and the specifics aren't necessary. My father, who I haven't seen since my wedding thirteen years ago (one week will mark it), returned to the area from god-knows-where, to introduce his boy to the family. In that aloof manner of his, perhaps he'd forgotten that we hadn't spoken in thirteen years or that he came to my graduation, but not my sister's. Maybe he thought that his three failed marriages had no effect on his first-born children. I'm sure the fact that he left my family when I was three and my sister had just been born had no bearing on the situation. He certainly hasn't been around for my psych issues. And, most important to me, he has yet to meet my son, his natural grandson. No, he was there to introduce his other son - real in my dream, but I'm sure imaginary.
Again, the conversation specifics aren't important. I pointed out the above and mostly slammed the man for abandoning my family and especially neglecting my sister. Maybe he didn't know how to relate to her, but, damn it, you try. While I seemed to be the star of my dream-show, I think the person who shined was my step-father.
Here's a man who's had a hard life, with parents that hated each other, living in a community that seems rather strange to me. He drank early and had a tough run. Picking up the pieces of a family that were left by another, he entered it as an alien and coped very poorly. Frankly, he hurt us with those coping skills and they left scars, visible even today. As I said, though, you try. And try he did. He worked years at a tireless, mundane job to support us. He also supported us as his wife was sick. All the while, attempting to fix his own past and similar mental health problems that plague me today. He had good attempts and very, very bad attempts. Those bad attempts were terrible for the family. But he tried and we got through it.
The climax of this dream was when my step-father stepped forward and tore into my father, feeling that my own message wasn't enough. He even went as far as kicking my father out and things got very heated. I hit my step-father to stop him because I knew that my father was already leaving, hurt and confused.
I have been struggling for years with both a substantial mental health issue and alcohol abuse. I've needed guidance and support. Most of my family has given that support and I thank them immensely. I'm trying my damnedest, for me and my own little boy. I don't want him to go through what I have or see what I've seen. It's a dark and horrible road to travel alone, and I need him to have a strong Figure behind him should, god forbid, he suffer similar problems. I need him to have Dad. Through everything, the one person that's struggled in support of me, seemingly, is my step-father. Even though he's gone through it all, years ago, when I slip or make poor decisions, he takes it personally. Sometimes he doesn't talk to me for a while, but he usually comes around. Bottom line, he tries. He's not always successful, but he's got the one, true quality that I've asked for in a father - he's present, for better or worse.
Today, when I say Dad, there's only one man I'm referencing.
