Children of Addicted Parents and People

 The first time I realised anything was wrong was when there was a lot of arguments at home.  But I just thought they were arguments, I never knew that it was to do with my dad having a drinking problem...   He’d come home from the pub into my room and start talking shite.  Sometimes it wouldn’t bother me, because I’d be up anyway, but sometimes he’d pester me to get up out of bed.  It was nothing bad he just wanted someone to talk to. We weren’t doing stuff other families were doing, because he was in the pub, he would sometimes take us places and it was guaranteed that he would be drink driving. Eventually he lost his licence. But we still had a laugh and that whenever we went away.  Some of the memories are quite vague. When I was little at Christmas, the same shit would happen.  One time at Christmas the whole family got a taxi home at  2am and arguments started between mum and dad and I would try to stop it. Arguments would just end when he’d be too tired and just pass out.  I must have been about 8, but not sure exactly when I realised he had a drinking problem. He used to prolong a situation, repeat himself and go over an argument for hours.  Which used to make me feel frustrated.  I avoided bringing people in.  Any time someone was round, he would just make an arse out of himself in front of my mates.  So if friends were home, I would hope that my dad wouldn’t come home.  I didn’t really mention it to anyone, and I never spoke about anything to do with the family. When mum was working he wouldn’t do dinners, so I would ask him to come and make dinner and he would say “after this pint”. I was more worried about what was going on with my mum and sister, that’s all I was bothered about, I didn’t care about myself. I don’t know why my mum stayed with him for so long.  It really scared my sister when they argued. It was relentless; he would just unplug the TV and argue. I would take my sister into another room and tell her it’s alright and comfort her or calm her down. I don’t know how my mum managed; she was just caring about us.One of the worst times was when me and my dad were in the house late at night, and my mum and sister were at my aunties.  Mum and dad were arguing on the phone and dad was trying to manipulate me to get on his side.  He wanted me to phone them and say the place was on fire.  But I wouldn’t do it. So my grandparents came down to drum some sense into him, and he got everyone really stressed out.  I don’t know how it ended, as I can’t remember. About 2 years later, I must have been about 10; me, my sister and my mum went to stay at my grans.  I said to my friends that my gran was ill.  I still went up to see my dad to see if he was ok. Things started getting worse as I got older, when I was about 15 he was drinking more.  His worst was when he was still in the flat and we moved out. He would have ended up over dosing it was that bad.  Me, my auntie and uncle went round to the flat and there was sick around the flat, some of it had been lying there for days. One day he was drinking on the bus and we were meant to be on a day out. I thought this is disgraceful.   He moved back in because he said he was definitely going to stop.  He went to hospital for 3 weeks – he said it was a mad house.  After he came out of the hospital, I was sitting there wondering whether he was going to drink again, and I honestly thought he would.  It was weird seeing him sober. And on top of that he was all depressed.  He was probably on valium when he was in there and when he came out. He never drank again. He gave up when I was 15, and it took a while for him to become normal again. I couldn’t really talk to him it was weird, he was always in a bad mood and there was always arguing, but this time it was arguing about different stuff and it was no way near as bad as when he was drinking.  Everything was about him, he was negative and he would just sit in the chair all day.  I am pretty sure he started going to AA meetings and met people there. When he got a job helping others finding jobs.  That’s when he started to get more positive and stuff, and he started to kind of change then. I felt as if it was a new start.  I don’t speak to my sister about it because she’d end up getting upset. And I think she is still affected by it now.  Its better of that he left because there was always tension and I understand that. I don’t worry about him drinking anymore, but there is still a chance, and it would take something crazy to push him into it.  A lot of his old drinking pals are now dead. I can understand being addicted, but I can’t understand why he didn’t stop, I thought it was his fault.  I believe that if you’re addicted, it’s your fault for not taking the warning signs.  When he was drinking I used to try and get him to cut down, but it never worked.  You need to hit rock bottom.  Us moving out made him hit rock bottom and that is what it took. Anonymous, 21 year old.