Hi everyone, I’m mostly looking for some advice on how to handle this as it plays on my mind a lot. I will start with background as I think it’s key here. I’m going to be talking about emotional abuse, alcoholism, suicide and mental health issues so TW.
From 0-12 my childhood was pretty normal and average. My dad was always a hardworking man, he worked, he provided for us and he did his best, I have no memories of him ever raising his voice but many of him at sports events, dance shows and music recitals. My mum on the other hand was very scattered as a person, she rarely attended my events despite being an artist so having no real schedule to stick to. She’d often disappear for a few days if she and my dad fell out and when she got back she’d make a point of telling me how awful he was.
At 12 my grandad passed away, my parents marriage had been at boiling point for a while and they decided to divorce. My mum wanted to move back to France and look after my grandma, I remember begging her to take me with her (not because I didn’t love or want to stay with my dad but I think I genuinely believed she would stop loving me if she didn’t see me), my dad worked long hours and agreed. My dad was amazing, I spent every school holiday with him (16 weeks in France so quite a bit), he would travel over for events, he paid my school fees and called me every single night never missing. My mum was fine for the first 6 months, she spoiled me I remember her making a massive deal out of introducing me to all her friends. I also recall her lying to these friends saying my dad never bothered with me, he had ran off with some woman (he’s literally never been in a relationship since my mum), she was paying my school fees alone etc. none of it was true but I was a little intimidated by her so never said anything.
6 months into moving my grandma passed away. From here my mum slowly started to spiral, a chain of relationships each following the same pattern, she would be elated and spoil me with clothes for meeting them, then they would fight, then it would end. Every time it ended it was my fault somehow, either I hadn’t been nice enough to them in her opinion or as I got older it would be that because I was young and “pretty” I made her look ugly.
She was also a heavy drinker, I don’t recall a single day she didn’t drink in my teen years, sometimes just a glass of wine, other times I’d get home to her passed out in bed drunk. She could be scathing towards me, say really awful things to me, I was always too much like my dad, too skinny, then too fat, hair too long etc. However if she knew I was about to be seeing my dad she would change up, never apologise but she would spoil me with things she couldn’t afford and give me a script to tell my dad. She also had a habit of threatening to hurt herself if I were ever defiant.
I never told anyone, I think partially as I was ashamed, I felt like everyone around me had normal family’s and I was odd. I didn’t tell my dad as I knew he regretted letting me move and I didn’t want him to feel worse and I also feared that if I left my mum something awful would happen.
After I finished school I took a gap year, travelled and when I got back my mums apartment was a total mess, bottles, pills, rubbish, like she totally lost herself. So I made the choice to stay in France for university, I was happy enough still close to my dad. I moved out but I was walking distance away and would call my mum daily, visit her at least twice a week. Sometimes she was fine, other times less so.
After I finished university, I had applied for some masters back in the uk. I never really believed I’d go but I wanted to believe I would. My mum hated me for even considering it. In the July my mum took her own life, I won’t go into detail but it was the most horrific experience of my life.
My dad came over and helped with funeral planning etc. and for the first time he learnt about how my mother had been for the last 10 years. He had barley communicated with her, she never wanted to talk to him so I was sort of responsible for arranging everything myself and just keeping both parents updated.
Her apartment was chaos, and I recall him very simply saying “how long has it been like this” and I couldn’t answer. I will never forget seeing him sob for the first time in that moment.
Since then, my dad constantly blames himself for my teen years. I don’t blame him at all, there was no way he could have known, I was literally lying to him daily telling him things were good, my mother never spoke to him or let him in her apartment so it wasn’t like there were signs he missed.
We have a great relationship, we call most days, we meet up for lunch often but every time he always apologises like he messed up. He keeps telling me he could never fall in love again as he would feel like he was abandoning me again. I’ve told him so many times that I just want him to be happy, that he did nothing wrong and the weeks I spent with him were the best. I worry for his mental health as he still lives in a large home alone, and I almost feel a similar responsibility to be his lifeline as I did to my mum.
I’ve tried to gently suggest he gets therapy or we even do family therapy but he’s a proud and old fashioned man so I don’t think he’d go for it.
AIBU to really wish he would stop blaming himself? Even if he does never remarry I don’t really like the weight of that choice being mine to carry as a “I’m doing this for you” situation.