My father was a alcoholic, who had long stretches of staying sober before always falling of the wagon again.
After he had been on a particularly long bender, which finally caused my mother to divorce him, me and him had a verbal fight where I decided I would not have more to do with him until he would seek the help we knew he needed (and we had been offering him for so long).
I'll add that he was a moody drunk, never abusive and when not drunk he was the sweetest person.
Some months later he fell badly while drunk, and hit his head. The resulting internal bleeding caused damage to his prefrontal cortex, which resulted in personality changes and loss of inhibition.
Within the year he had a heart attack, alone in his apartment, having ravaged his body with the lifestyle he lived.
I wish I had been less stubborn, more understanding, and would have helped him get through his illness at the time. But I was only in my early 20s at the time, with much left to learn.
Don't feel so bad.
I've seen, from a distance, more than one friend tear their life apart trying to help an addict, to no avail.
I think that your chances of making any difference at all were slim.
Let the guilt go. Coming from a person in recovery who's lucky to have gotten out of that hole, just know there's not really anything you could have done if your father wasn't interested in seeking help. No amount of being there or showing understanding or talking sense to him matters. Good on you for not losing your 20s and beyond to that endless pit.
+1. I spent some time in recovery, and someone once shared that "Our help isn't for people who need it, it's for people who want it." That always stuck with me.
Small comfort, but thinking probabilistically, your choice was likely the best thing for him. It could have been the wakeup call he needed to truly change his life. Unfortunately, in this case it was not, but you can only make decisions with what you know at the time.
Think of it this way: your experience with your father is probably what kept you away from alcohol. It's a very common pattern.
BTW, I realize "falling off the wagon" means going on a bender, but shouldn't it really be the other way around? I mean, if you go on a bender, that's like getting on the wagon. I always picture this wagon with everyone drinking in the wagon. Because no one who drinking's drinking wants to walk. Just one of those things that's always bugged me.
Generally, this is the type of regret I finally came to terms with. The bottom line is that you did not know the future when you made the initial decision. After the fact you have the information that would have made a difference but we CAN'T, no mater how hard we try, foretell the future. What you are are actually regretting is a fantasy. Look at the world around you and you'll see many places where you wished you could have made a better decision but you can't be upset over them. Again you can't know what the future will be. None of us can so don't beat yourself over something you had no control over. Additionally, in your case, changing someone is not possible unless they want to change. You can only learn from the situation and hope to make a better choice in the future.
I understand completely and feel the same way about my own father.
My dad was also an episodic alcoholic. He'd go months without any issues, then disappear for three days on a binge. He'd drink such a massive amount of alcohol he'd have to go onto a IV drip.
My 16 year old self became so disgusted by him I refused to tell him I loved him and shunned him. We tried to give him the "tough love" we thought he needed so that he would "hit bottom" and then take some control back. It didn't work, and he ended up dying alone in a hotel room.
I now see that he needed more love and support instead of tough love and isolation. I wish I had been more patient, understanding, and supportive.
After he had been on a particularly long bender, which finally caused my mother to divorce him, me and him had a verbal fight where I decided I would not have more to do with him until he would seek the help we knew he needed (and we had been offering him for so long).
I'll add that he was a moody drunk, never abusive and when not drunk he was the sweetest person.
Some months later he fell badly while drunk, and hit his head. The resulting internal bleeding caused damage to his prefrontal cortex, which resulted in personality changes and loss of inhibition.
Within the year he had a heart attack, alone in his apartment, having ravaged his body with the lifestyle he lived.
I wish I had been less stubborn, more understanding, and would have helped him get through his illness at the time. But I was only in my early 20s at the time, with much left to learn.