Never Give Up Hope

Elizabeth’s message to anyone who grew up with an alcoholic parent: Never give up hope.

Elizabeth's message for anyone who grew up with an alcoholic parent is to never give up hope

Never Give Up Hope

Alcoholism turned him into a Jekyll and Hyde character

When I think of my Dad, it is like thinking about two people as alcoholism turned him into a Jekyll and Hyde character.

When he was sober, he was a really charming, helpful, intelligent, charismatic person with a brilliant sense of humour. He was great fun and would have everyone in stitches with his jokes and playful tricks.

My Dad loved gardening, proudly announcing at Sunday lunch that all the vegetables were home-grown. He was a great cook, having served in the RAF as a chef.

Taken over by a vengeful monster

Unfortunately, when he was drunk, it was as if he had been taken over by a vengeful monster who instilled in me fear and confusion. For example:

  • The fear I felt when I heard his smoker’s cough as he neared the gate, getting louder as he approached the kitchen door, knowing that, being a Saturday, he would have spent all day drinking with his drinking buddy.
  • The fear I felt, running into my bedroom, climbing into my bed, pulling up the covers, desperately hoping that if he couldn’t see me, he would leave me alone.
  • The fear I felt when he opened my bedroom door, switched on the light and launched into his verbal assault, accusing me of anything and everything he could think of, all made up, but for which I felt I had to apologise in my ultimately futile attempt to placate him. I would just have to listen to his hateful words, unable to escape.

Full of hate and rage

There was the relentless criticism. The monster part of him was full of hate and rage.

My heart would be racing and I would be shaking with fear. I would be sitting on the sofa next to my Mum and he would be standing, his huge 6’3 frame towering over us, unsteady on his feet.

He would launch into a devastating character assassination of me, telling me how useless I was, that I wouldn’t accomplish anything in my life, that I did nothing right and wasn’t worth anything at all. I was told this repeatedly for years as I was growing up.

Once, when I was 14, his rage was so great that he grabbed me by the throat, pushing me against my wardrobe, raging at me. I was terrified. My Mum managed to pull him off me long enough for me to escape.

I ran and ran, not stopping until I reached a friend’s flat, about 15 minutes’ walk away (a woman whom I used to babysit for). Unfortunately, she was out and, as I waited outside for her, my Dad appeared around the corner. He furiously dragged me into the car which my Mum (also a victim) was driving, and proceeded to hit me.

He must have been drinking scotch as his aggression and anger multiplied many times after drinking spirits.

The kernel of truth inside me

My Dad’s illness had a devastating effect on my life in many ways. But, despite this, I also managed to do really well in some areas of my life.

There was always the kernel of truth inside me that was telling me that, in contrast to what my Dad had said, I was a kind and special person with unique gifts.

I was also lucky enough to have a wonderful maternal Grandmother who told everyone who would listen how clever, good and beautiful I was.

At the time, I just thought this was a grandparent’s natural bias. She didn’t know, until I told her when I was an adult, about the things I had experienced.

When I did tell her, she said she wished she had known as she would have adopted me. However, as is often the case with children of alcoholics, our pain is a secret known only within the walls where we live.

Never give up hope that you can feel happy

Despite what I have been through, mine is a story that has a happy outcome.

After the decades of pain, there came the awareness, then the understanding, then the letting go of blame, leading to true forgiveness and compassion which has ultimately led to peace: peace of mind.

Peace of mind which was so elusive for so long but which I wanted and needed more than anything else.

My message, therefore, to anyone who has suffered because they grew up with an alcoholic parent, is to never give up hope that you can feel happy; that you can heal from the pain of childhood trauma, and that you can be free of the unhelpful thoughts of blame and feelings of anger.

Even if you can’t see a way out yet, do not give up. You can get there with determination, self-education and the right tools of support.

It hasn’t been easy or quick, but I did it and you can too. You deserve it.

Elizabeth

To read more experience stories, go to Support & Advice.

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Never Give Up Hope

Elizabeth's message to anyone who grew up with an alcoholic parent: Never give up hope.

Never Give Up Hope

Elizabeth's message to anyone who grew up with an alcoholic parent: Never give up hope.

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Elizabeth's message for anyone who grew up with an alcoholic parent is to never give up hope

Never Give Up Hope

Alcoholism turned him into a Jekyll and Hyde character

When I think of my Dad, it is like thinking about two people as alcoholism turned him into a Jekyll and Hyde character.

When he was sober, he was a really charming, helpful, intelligent, charismatic person with a brilliant sense of humour. He was great fun and would have everyone in stitches with his jokes and playful tricks.

My Dad loved gardening, proudly announcing at Sunday lunch that all the vegetables were home-grown. He was a great cook, having served in the RAF as a chef.

Taken over by a vengeful monster

Unfortunately, when he was drunk, it was as if he had been taken over by a vengeful monster who instilled in me fear and confusion. For example:

  • The fear I felt when I heard his smoker’s cough as he neared the gate, getting louder as he approached the kitchen door, knowing that, being a Saturday, he would have spent all day drinking with his drinking buddy.
  • The fear I felt, running into my bedroom, climbing into my bed, pulling up the covers, desperately hoping that if he couldn’t see me, he would leave me alone.
  • The fear I felt when he opened my bedroom door, switched on the light and launched into his verbal assault, accusing me of anything and everything he could think of, all made up, but for which I felt I had to apologise in my ultimately futile attempt to placate him. I would just have to listen to his hateful words, unable to escape.

Full of hate and rage

There was the relentless criticism. The monster part of him was full of hate and rage.

My heart would be racing and I would be shaking with fear. I would be sitting on the sofa next to my Mum and he would be standing, his huge 6’3 frame towering over us, unsteady on his feet.

He would launch into a devastating character assassination of me, telling me how useless I was, that I wouldn’t accomplish anything in my life, that I did nothing right and wasn’t worth anything at all. I was told this repeatedly for years as I was growing up.

Once, when I was 14, his rage was so great that he grabbed me by the throat, pushing me against my wardrobe, raging at me. I was terrified. My Mum managed to pull him off me long enough for me to escape.

I ran and ran, not stopping until I reached a friend’s flat, about 15 minutes’ walk away (a woman whom I used to babysit for). Unfortunately, she was out and, as I waited outside for her, my Dad appeared around the corner. He furiously dragged me into the car which my Mum (also a victim) was driving, and proceeded to hit me.

He must have been drinking scotch as his aggression and anger multiplied many times after drinking spirits.

The kernel of truth inside me

My Dad’s illness had a devastating effect on my life in many ways. But, despite this, I also managed to do really well in some areas of my life.

There was always the kernel of truth inside me that was telling me that, in contrast to what my Dad had said, I was a kind and special person with unique gifts.

I was also lucky enough to have a wonderful maternal Grandmother who told everyone who would listen how clever, good and beautiful I was.

At the time, I just thought this was a grandparent’s natural bias. She didn’t know, until I told her when I was an adult, about the things I had experienced.

When I did tell her, she said she wished she had known as she would have adopted me. However, as is often the case with children of alcoholics, our pain is a secret known only within the walls where we live.

Never give up hope that you can feel happy

Despite what I have been through, mine is a story that has a happy outcome.

After the decades of pain, there came the awareness, then the understanding, then the letting go of blame, leading to true forgiveness and compassion which has ultimately led to peace: peace of mind.

Peace of mind which was so elusive for so long but which I wanted and needed more than anything else.

My message, therefore, to anyone who has suffered because they grew up with an alcoholic parent, is to never give up hope that you can feel happy; that you can heal from the pain of childhood trauma, and that you can be free of the unhelpful thoughts of blame and feelings of anger.

Even if you can’t see a way out yet, do not give up. You can get there with determination, self-education and the right tools of support.

It hasn’t been easy or quick, but I did it and you can too. You deserve it.

Elizabeth

To read more experience stories, go to Support & Advice.

You are not alone

Remember the Six "C"s

I didn’t cause it
I can’t control it
I can’t cure it
I can take care of myself
I can communicate my feelings
I can make healthy choices

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