Initially, when I was really young, but ultimately it became a mix of options 2 and 3 by the time I was in middle school. He worked ridiculous hours for shit money, and when he was around, he generally closed himself off in his room and mostly ignored us, emerging every now and then to scream, hurl insults, and break our shit. When I was 18, my parents divorced, and shortly thereafter he moved across the country where he continued to devolve mentally and physically, never visited or returned for important milestones, until he finally passed away about a year ago. Part of me always hoped he'd get his shit together and we could fix our relationship at some point, but it sadly never happened.