Throughout my childhood, he was a demeaning, insecure, controlling, verbally abusive creature of sorts who took a disproportionate amount of pride for what little he had contributed to the household. Not only he never protected or advocated for me as a child in any way, in some wierd Freudian sense he saw me as a competitor for my mother's attention, a thing I really wish I had a little less of. Despite my mom trying to convince me otherwise, there is little reason to doubt the fact that he hated me, or at least hated how I made him look in comparison. Of course, all of this is a lot more complicated and nuanced but this is the gist of it.
Yesterday when visiting he got extremely drunk, fell from the sofa, and pissed himself on the spot, while me, my mom and brother watched in disgust and disbelief. Even his own father (from whom he inherited his alcoholism by the way) can't look him in the eyes anymore.
What sort of a relationship should I have, kiwibros?