This lead me down a path I now regret. All my friends were other musicians. All we wanted to do was smoke weed, play music, and party. Sure, I had lots of fun along the way, but once I got old enough to actually experience the life of a touring musician I had to accept that it wasn't for me. I wasn't happy with the life style. Turns out, I'm actually happier working hard and living a "normal" life.
Luckily, I was able to go to college and get a pretty good job, but I feel like I will never meet my true potential. I spent so many years taking the easy path that I now struggle with mediocrity. All because my 8-year-old brain made a decision that it had no business making.
If I could go back in time, I'd focus on going to college straight out of high school and developing myself as much as possible.
After he had been on a particularly long bender, which finally caused my mother to divorce him, me and him had a verbal fight where I decided I would not have more to do with him until he would seek the help we knew he needed (and we had been offering him for so long).
I'll add that he was a moody drunk, never abusive and when not drunk he was the sweetest person.
Some months later he fell badly while drunk, and hit his head. The resulting internal bleeding caused damage to his prefrontal cortex, which resulted in personality changes and loss of inhibition.
Within the year he had a heart attack, alone in his apartment, having ravaged his body with the lifestyle he lived.
I wish I had been less stubborn, more understanding, and would have helped him get through his illness at the time. But I was only in my early 20s at the time, with much left to learn.
My dad was also an episodic alcoholic. He'd go months without any issues, then disappear for three days on a binge. He'd drink such a massive amount of alcohol he'd have to go onto a IV drip.
My 16 year old self became so disgusted by him I refused to tell him I loved him and shunned him. We tried to give him the "tough love" we thought he needed so that he would "hit bottom" and then take some control back. It didn't work, and he ended up dying alone in a hotel room.
I now see that he needed more love and support instead of tough love and isolation. I wish I had been more patient, understanding, and supportive.