I’ll admit, I have always wished that something would happen in my life so people would
stop saying that my life is perfect.  There is always something everyone doesn’t know about,
nobody has it all. It drives me absolutely crazy when people say, “OMG your life is so
perfect.” It’s really not. There is a lot people don’t know about my life. 

I am 15, I live the average life of a teenager. My daily life is just as anyone else my age. I
have a very loving family that would do anything for me, and I have many good friends that I
love spending time with. I go to school everyday, and I come home everyday. But I am also
living a totally different life that no one knows about. 

My dad is an alcoholic. He has been for over ten years. The worst part is that I never
knew. December 23rd was a normal day for me. I went to school and I came home, little did I
know my whole world was about to be flipped upside down. My sister came through the door
and said we needed to talk but it was ‘kinda a big thing’ so I should probably sit down. So I did,
expecting her to maybe say, “I got a new job,” or “we’re going to Hawaii.” Instead of hearing
that, I was hearing that my dad is an alcoholic, and he has been for quite some time.

I was immediately speechless, I was utterly confused. I sat there as thoughts and
questions spun a web inside my head, as my sister kept babbling on about how we’ve never
known our dad...we only know alcohol...and how mad she is at him for doing this to us. Finally,
she stopped talking and asked what I was thinking, I was still stunned and speechless. Not
everyday are you told that you don’t know your best friend,your number one supporter, and your
hero. He then walked in the house saving me from the words I could have said. I greeted him as
I do everyday and ran to my bedroom and cried.

Hours went by and start hearing yelling from downstairs. Only then did my sister come
up to see how I was doing, I’m not to sure what she was expecting from me but, she asked
again, “what are you thinking?” This time I went off, the web in my head unraveled all at once.
How could my mom keep this from me for so long? Why did my whole family know except me?
Why hadn’t anyone helped him? I had all these questions and I had no answers to any of them.
My sister didn’t know what to say so she asked if I wanted to go see a therapist with her and my
mom... tonight. I knew I wouldn’t say much to a random guy that thinks he can understand what
we we’re going through but I went for the sake of my mom and sister, and I honestly wanted to
hear more about all this alcoholism I was just now hearing about.

Our therapy session started at five so we left at 4:30 and met my mom in Hastings. The
moment the reality of this struck me was the moment I watched as my mom walked  through the
doors, I remember only thinking. “None of this is her fault.” My heart crumbled, I was no longer
pretending to be fine, or saying that I was okay with my dad being an alcoholic. I collapsed into
her arms sobbing. The stares and looks of confusion from every single person as they walked
out of their own therapy session, was indescribable. They have their problems, and yet they
wonder and worry about why I am in tears in the middle of this gloomy room that is supposed to
help me. 

All I can say now is that I will never find the courage to see another therapist. I sat in a
dark room for an hour listening to a short, round man bash my father and I. He doesn’t know my
dad, he has never even met him, yet he has the audacity to tell me that my dad is a monster.
That I am a delinquent and the choices I have made were only to get my dad's attention. He told
me that I’d be better off leaving him with my mom and my sister. I can promise that that, is what
I’ll never do, I will never leave my dad nor will I ever let a stereotypical therapist tell me who I am
or what is best for my family again.

My family is a family through thick and thin. We love each other to the point that we
would take a bullet for one another. That being said, we need to help my dad quit drinking. He
has been informed that by February 1st if he does not decide to get himself into a treatment
facility he will not be able to come home. We have all realized that my dad needs help but he
won’t agree to it unless he has something to lose. The one thing that has terrified me all along
was the thought of losing my dad, whether it be he dies of liver failure, or he gets put away in a
treatment facility, I didn't want to lose him. After having a month to process, I told my mom I
would rather have him absent for 90 of my life and come back a person I may or may not know
that have him be an absentee of the rest of my life. 

I am a now a strong believer in the saying “You get what you wish for.” I made the
mistake of wishing for something to happen and it has. The web of entangled thoughts and
questions builds and folds every day. Not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about the
possibility of losing my dad, or wondering if we are more important than this drug that has and
could take his life. All I can do is wait and hope that when February 1st comes he will have
made the decision that is best for him, whether that be our family or alcohol.