How alcoholism shaped my world………P1

I am going to start this blog by pointing out I am in no way a wordsmith, I cannot give you advice & in all likelihood this blog is unlikely to make any difference to your life.  I’m writing this for me, and me alone and if others can take something from it, great.  It’s not a sob story, or designed to get sympathy.  It’s just how it is.  It’s all over the place but I’m writing it as things come to mind so for that I apologise.

So I’m a lass with issues, nothing more, nothing less.  I’ve gone through a fair amount of cr*p, yet I still feel I’m a very lucky girl.  I’ll start, well, at the beginning.  I grew up with Mum, Big Bro (8yrs older) & Big Sis (11yrs older)  in a little town SE England.  As far as I was aware we were a ‘normal’ family.  Up until I was bout 3yrs old and Mum threw my dad out, I didn’t fully understand but I knew he was a nasty man & I didn’t really care whether he was there or not.  Then Mum starting drinking. Heavily.  I’ll return to this part later on.

As I grew up I learnt more about the absent father.  I was the apple of his eye apparently, was showered with pretty dresses etc, whilst big Bro & big Sis, who aren’t his children, were left with nothing – no school shoes, no new clothes etc.  On top of that he used to beat them and Mum.  This breaks my heart.  I hate that this is the man who helped bring me into this world.  I hold a lot of guilt from this, knowing that whilst I was being looked after, the rest of my family were suffering.  I was only a toddler when all this was going on but nonetheless, the guilt is immense.  Fast Forward to 1992 and I’m at primary school.  it’s 3.30pm and I was waiting for Mum & one of my brothers friends to collect me from school.  Suddenly this large, hairy tattooed man comes over to me and says Mum’s asked him to pick me up & we were going home.  I didn’t move, I was frozen.  I knew that I was not to go off with anyone unless I knew them, and I certainly did not know this guy.  As  I looked around nervously I saw Mum & aforementioned friend appear at the gate and both break into a sprint towards me, instantly the teachers spotted this man talking to me & everyone rushed over.  I was scared & confused and was just glad to have Mum there.  When we finally got home Mum had told me that it was my father who was talking to me and, to put it simply, he’d have taken me away if he’d had that chance.  (Im still grateful that I was bought up with enough sense to not go off with him) 

I only saw him once more after that when he turned up at christmas at my grandmothers house a year or 2 later with a boys shooting toy for me.  I threw it in the bin and thought no more of the man who I’d only ever known by his first name.  Dad is not a title he has or ever will deserve.

So back to the home life!  One of my earliest memories is my Mum stumbling up the road to collect me from school, I was maybe 5yrs old and I still flush as I remember the absolute shame I felt.  Life was bad to put it mildly.  She wasn’t just a drunk, she was a full blown ‘functioning’ alcoholic.  This went on for years.  By the time I’d wake up in the mornings, she’d already be half way through whatever tipple she happened to have in the house at that time.   To me it was normal, I’d wake up every day dreading what was waiting for me, knowing that I’d have to go to a friends house to try & get some food.  I’d go out at 10am and not return home until 10pm, just to avoid the reality I was living in.  This started when I was 13 or 14, maybe earlier.  I started smoking weed, drinking & staying out all night with friends.  I never let on to them how bad things were but I think they had a rough idea, it’s not something I wanted them to know about me.   The house was a mess, we never had food, electricity or heat.  In short it was hell, I was a neglected child in nearly every sense of the word, the only thing I did have was knowing that despite all the problems, Mum (and big bro & sis of course) did love me.  Most nights were spent sat in candlelight under a duvet as mum had drank away our budget.  My schooling was affected, even at primary school I started becoming a truant and it carried on until I finally walked out of Grammar school aged 15 – no GCSE’s, no prospects, no hope. I was severely underweight, my clothes were always dirty & I was a general mess.  To this day it always amazes me at the lack of action my school took regarding my safety, health & education.  I clearly had problems, yet nothing was ever said or done.  A shining example of how this country fails to help vulnerable, young  people.  

That’s about it for this post.  I need to figure out where to take it from here, there’s a lot more to get through.  If I write any more now I may just crash & burn.  I’ll attempt to elaborate tomorrow but for now, nearly 1000 words before 11am is plenty. 

See you on the flip side kidlings.

TCS. x


2 responses to this post.

  1. Darling this is wonderful, you are very much a wordsmith and so far so good. I hope that you are already feeling a sense of ease at having shared, and thank you for doing so xxx


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