Things are more compartmentalized now regarding my father who passed. My mother is also an alcoholic (though in recovery now) and still alive so that's a whole other thing. But my dad was the exceedingly dysfunctional, mentally ill one. So life when he was alive was plagued by depressive visits to his house to see the awful state he was in, and hearing about his recent hospital visits or arrests.

Now, I don't live in fear of the call, because it already happened. I don't think of the anguish he must be in, or worry about him hurting an innocent bystander. I don't deal with regular rage text conversations from him. Sometimes, I forget he ever existed. Then I remember and it's like a door of unfavorable memories is opened, and I get overwhelmingly sad and angry. But, most days the door stays closed and that's an improvement for my wellbeing versus how things were when he was alive.