I grew up in an abusive household (me and my brother were not abused, but my father hit my mother) and my parents fought ALOT when I was growing up. At the time I was very young, most of it was elementary school years. My mom was always the straight one, getting up, getting us to school, going to work, picking us up from after school care, making dinner and getting us to bed. Knowing now that I'm older and have had talks with her, she was also smoking weed the entire time but keeping it away from us, which is why I have my opinions on marijuana that I do (I believe some people can pick up a habit from it and it can be harmful to others, but to myself and my mother this is not the case.), but that's beside the point. My father would come home to come down basically. He'd go out, party, stay gone a few days, then come home and be nasty and rude to my mother and us. Eventually my mom got tired of it and moved us away from him, but he always somehow knew how to find us and would harass my mother until he found his new girlfriend that was also on drugs so it worked perfectly for him. I wouldn't hear from him for years at a time, and now he pops up sometimes and talks to me for months at a time, only to turn around and I won't hear from him another year or so until he needs something. Mine and my father's relationship now that I am grown up is kind of complicated. We talk and joke around and he tells me stories from back in his day, and we have good times. But I also know that he is still probably doing drugs behind my back and not telling me, and that is fine. I have learned you cannot help someone that doesn't want it so I leave it at that. I did tell him he does not have the right to be high in front of me and I will know and it will completely erase any trace of respect I have for him (even though my level of respect is more that of a friend than a father). Our relationship feels more like an old friendship, not a father-daughter relationship so that kind of takes a toll on me sometimes. I also got my addictive personality from my father so I think we have a bond on that side of things. When he heard of me and my own drug problems, he kept saying it couldn't have possibly been because I grew up around a druggie myself. I do believe it is in my blood (the personality of it at least) so I was bound to be this way. But unlike him, I know the skills now to overcome it and be the person I am today. It's just sad to me how bad drugs (meth being his drug of choice) can effect someone's life for so long. It's almost like he is too far gone to even call back. And it saddens me sometimes. I'm sorry if this was a long read, and it was kind of all over the place. I am just typing how it comes to my mind. I am not actively looking for advice or anything, just wanted to get my own story out there because it was on my mind all night so I had to let it out somewhere. Thank you to those who took the time to read this. Much love to you all.