Last night saw my mom, sister and myself confronting my dad again. Yesterday was out of hand, and we pieced together that he had smoked 4 cigarettes through the course of the day. CIGARETTES? He was meant to be moving off of them, via cigars. Yet he went back to cigarettes. So I made him a promise last night. If you know me, you know that I only make a promise that I know I will keep. I told him that for every smoke I know he has, I will be smoking one myself (my sister said she would too).
He told us he was done, he would kick the habit. No doubt, we were skeptical, but hey he said he was done. SURPRISE! Today he went to buy a cigar from the garage. I specified in my promise that cigar or cigarette, whether he has one puff or twenty, for every one he lights, I will be smoking a cigarette myself. He went outside to light it up, to which my mom obviously disagreed. He swore at her, something along the lines of "fuck you" and "voetsak". Now, if you know my dad, you might be wondering WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? That guy is not my dad, we don't know where the soft hearted, selfless guy has gone. Instead we have something along the lines of a drug addict.
Earlier, after finding out that he had bought the smoke, I stormed out the house and I went to buy my own small box of cigarettes. After hearing what he said to my mom, I grabbed them. Ripping off the packaging and grabbing a cigarette, this was the last straw for me. I put it in my mouth and had the lighter ready, to which he had the exact reaction I wanted. "Don't do this to me". I told him that I had never smoked a cigarette in my life, I told him that he spent years telling me not to smoke, because it was a shit habit. How could he persist and carry on, after everything we have told him? I lit the stupid cigarette, and I smoked it. My sister did too, after months of not smoking. Keep in mind that my sister quit 12 years of smoking OVERNIGHT after my dad was diagnosed.
It was surreal, something that is hard to describe. I was the one sitting at the bar counter, smoke in hand, lecturing my dad while he sat on the couch, telling him how he must pick himself up and fight for his life. It was just bizarre to witness the roles being reversed, my sister and myself playing mom and dad with the naughty child being my dad. I enforced my promise, saying that the next time he wants to light up, he must remember that we are going to as well.
I feel like utter shit now. I could never understand all those years when I was small, and my dad said it hurt him when he had to repremand me and such. How can it hurt him when he is the one doing the yelling and being the adult? I know now. The sight of my dad being defeated, his son and daughter trying to put him back on the right path... it's ripping my heart from the inside out. I want my dad back, I want him to get better!
You might be thinking that we are making a hell of a big deal over this smoking thing. Yes, we are, but its one of many, MANY things that are wrong with my dad at the moment. He doesn't do anything but "exist" at home day after day. He doesn't watch TV, walk, read, anything at all. I firmly believe that he only resorts to smoking because it is habit, and he has nothing better to do. The truth is, he has lots to keep him busy, but he chooses not to.
My sister has booked a session with a councilor tomorrow. I hope she can get into his head, because we sure as hell hit a brick wall each and every time we try to.
P.S - I never inhaled the cigarette, I just puffed on it. That alone has given me a headache (something I seldom get) and made my mouth taste absolutely disgusting. My hands smell like smoke too, and I freaking hate that smell. It could never become a habit based on that alone, the smell and aftertaste make me wanna die >_< heres hoping the message went though, because I sure as hell don't wanna touch that shit again!