8-6-2019
Dear Lila,
I’m missing you quite a bit today – well, of course I always miss you, but today even more. The way the visitation schedule is set-up with your mom – you’re with me one week, then the next with your mother. After about 3-days or so – I start to think about how excited I am to see you next. How, I can’t wait to give you a big-hug, and laugh with you – act like complete goofballs. Now that you’re 10, and on the brink of middle-school – I can tell that you value your independence. You love playing video games, and watching funny videos on YouTube. I will always respect your yearning for independence – but I will also keep my expectations high. My philosophy has always been – that you get your freedom, as long as you’re a reasonable person and do your part at home, and in school. You consistently exceed my expectations, and I am very grateful.
Over the years, since your birth, I have felt emotions so powerful they are hard to describe and manage. When you were a baby – I used to hold you, and for whatever reason, probably because I love you so much, I would spontaneously start crying. Well, more like sob. Tears would begin running down my cheeks – and it would be difficult for me to compose myself. I remember, when I would be rocking you to sleep – I would put on music, and the lullabies triggered deep emotion that I had no idea existed.
Aside from the crying – I also started experiencing what would later be classified as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), with a side of Generalized Anxiety (which I think magnified my active alcoholism – as drinking seemed to calm my nerves at the time). I believe these conditions were pre-existing, and not your fault in anyway, kid – as I see my father struggle with the aforementioned conditions.
The moment you were born, I felt something, not just emotion, but an overwhelming sense of responsibility – and that sense of responsibility made me afraid for your safety and well-being. What do I mean by that? I mean that I was always terrified, literally scared, that something may happen to you. I obsessed about it to the point that my heart would palpitate, and I would spiral into a complete panic. On top of that, I was doing my best to keep a straight-face, and was cramming these intense issues into a distant corridor within my mind. It began to manifest.
It was a challenge for me to enjoy the good times – because I was always thinking about worst case scenarios. It began to expand – and I became obsessive about my health and well-being. Every headache was a tumor – and every anxiety induced palpitation was a looming heart attack. I couldn’t fathom the thought of me dying before you could generate memories of me – it was my greatest fear. Those of us that suffer, literally suffer, from OCD know that we are irrational – the way we think, at times, and our damn routines – but they are near impossible, the urges, to ignore. You’ll certainly remember, because I still do it now – that I sometimes must go back into the apartment, several times, and even when we didn’t cook, to make sure the stove is off, for fear of burning our place down. The sinks are off, so that our unit doesn’t flood – and the 4-times I walk around the car when we get home, ensuring the interior and headlights are off – and the doors are locked. I do this at work too – because I worry that if my car battery dies, you’ll be stuck at school – and I won’t be able to see you. As I write this, I feel a certain level of despair.
Soon, drinking didn’t calm me at all – it made things worse. Then, when I stopped with the booze – I began the learning process. Meaning, I could no longer hide from my mental health challenges – I had to learn how to cope with them, substance free. Was that scary? You’re damn right! But I was finally ready – I, as they say, was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
I have openly talked to you about my alcoholism, anxiety and OCD (your grandpa struggles with it too) – and after a year of sobriety, I started therapy (sporadic). I was open to trying any method to get better – to not suffer. I started exercising and eating healthier – and those efforts weren’t fruitless. I’m not cured – but I’ve been training my mind to respond differently to certain thoughts and situations. I realized that my OCD isn’t all bad – as it makes me very effective at work – but it’s no damn good at home, with the family.
My point in this letter is to let you know that it’s ok to not be ok sometimes. It’s ok to talk about the challenging times, just as much as the joyous times. I want you to know that no matter what you’re feeling, or what you’re thinking – you can feel the freedom of knowing that I will never judge you, regardless of what is running through your mind. You have a strong network in your life – and I need to know that you know, I have your back always and forever. Just like you’ve had mine – more than you’ll ever know. Like addressing my alcoholism – I must address my challenges with mental health, as they will never go away, but they will certainly become more manageable. Never try to mask feelings with substances – I can assure you, it will only get worse. Have the courage that I didn’t have – and confront these challenges head-on – and know that you’re stronger than any temporary thought, or impulse. It will all be ok – always.
As you get older, we will talk more – or if for some reason, I am gone – just know, that your mother and stepfather (Nick) are there for you too. My hope is that you will find more artistic outlets to express your feelings – and continue playing sports to ensure you have a network of support. You are loved deeply by many – and your health is our priority. You are my best friend.
Oddly enough, as I finish this letter – I am crying J
Tears of joy.
I love you sweetheart – always and foreve.
Love,
Dad
To My Kids - The Thoughts of Your Father 