As-salamu alaykum - My Life Changed After My Father's Death

As-salamu alaykum. My father passed away recently, and everything about my life shifted in a way I wasn’t ready for. People tell me “be strong” like it’s simple, but they don’t see that now so much is on my shoulders. I’m the one holding the family together, even when inside I feel like I’m breaking. When he died I didn’t even cry at first. I felt numb. I’d spent years reacting to him-his anger, his shouting, his moods. Now he’s gone and the silence he left feels heavier than all the noise he used to make. We never had a normal father-son relationship. He was often angry with me, always yelling, telling me I was wrong no matter what. Where I come from, being hit by your dad was considered “normal,” so I grew up thinking that was just life. My little brother is in a wheelchair, so my father never hit him. Everything fell onto me and my mother. But there were times when he was sober and gentle. Calm. Like a real father. That’s what hurts the most. If he’d been cruel all the time maybe it would be simpler. Those small good moments make me miss him, even though I know he caused a lot of damage. My mother loved him a lot. She spent her life trying to help him, to save him from drinking. She believed he could change. Now she wakes up crying and calling out, and I feel lost. She didn’t deserve this. She fought for him, and now she is the one broken. After he died, it wasn’t only losing him. It felt like the whole family was placed on my shoulders at once. I had to quit school. I had to grow up overnight. I had to handle things I wasn’t ready for. I became the man of the house before I wanted to. I work in construction now, the same job he had. Not because I wanted it, but because we needed money fast. People there talk about him and look at me like I should be like him. I put on a brave face because I don’t know what else to do. I didn’t get to choose my future. It feels like he chose it for me when he chose alcohol over us. I wanted to study, to do something else. But after he died, my plans were wiped away. Now I wake up early, come home exhausted, my body aches, and I hardly think about the future anymore. Sometimes I truly hate him. I hate that he left us this life. I hate that he drank himself to death and now I’m paying the price. I hate that I have to fix what he ruined. But then suddenly I miss him so much it hurts. I remember the times he was kind and sober. I miss the father he could have been, and knowing that version existed makes everything harder. I don’t know if I’m grieving his death or grieving the life he destroyed. People say time heals, but time doesn’t pay bills. Time doesn’t comfort my mother. Time doesn’t bring back school or dreams. I’m the one who has to deal with all that, and it’s crushing me slowly. I am tired, angry, and confused. I’m trying to run a family when I can barely keep myself together. Life didn’t wait for me; it pushed me forward, and I’m doing my best not to fall apart. I’d appreciate any advice. I’ve been having very dark thoughts lately, and I don’t know how to handle them. JazakAllahu khair for listening.