I lost my father to alcoholism 17 years ago. I was 24 at the time and had been expecting the end for many years. It was a major part of my childhood. I created his death in my mind so many times.

The end was horrid, as was the life. I can only guess why my dad drank as it was never really spoken about. He didn’t hide it and labelled himself an alcoholic for many years. It destroyed his hobbies, his work, his marriage and family. My dad was intelligent, funny, kind and had strong articulate views. He left the world not remembering who people were, where he was, a stomach carry masses of water, his skin was bright yellow. He was only 48. I grew up spending time with Dad and his alcoholic friends. Most were good company, some left me on edge and some only hung around my dad to take from him. He had physical fights and falls from drinking too much and by the end he was having seizures. He was always late, not just the odd half an hour but hours and hours. I think I got one birthday present from him my whole life. He would disappear for months then come back. He would be aggressive when my mum first split up with him. He was different as a 20 something drunk. Much more aggressive and unpredictable. In his 30s I think he learnt to just top up and wouldnt get paraletic.

He missed my graduation because I couldn’t have him there to embarrass me in front of the other students. I was gutted as he understood more than anyone else what getting a degree meabt. How important it was. I felt guilty about lying and saying guest numbers were reduced to 2. It also meant my grandma couldn’t come either.

Christmas would be a time to hide away. It was miserable for him and he would often stay in bed. One Christmas he stopped drinking and the physical affect was scary to me. The physical shakes. His flat was a mess with stuff covering every floor, unfinished food on the coffee table and soiled clothes on the floor. A very sad existence where death would be a relief to him. I regret not being able to talk to him about it and convincing him that he didn’t need the alcohol. It’s hard to talk to others who have lost their parents from disease or accidents. My father wanted to die and I feel guilt because many people with illnesses such as cancer wanted to live. It’s hard to put into words how I feel about that. I feel his death is different to other parents and I feel there is less sympathy.

I was not around much in his last years because I was at University. I went traveling in 2008 and the Christmas before I left he was in hospital for detox. He was really happy to be around people at Christmas. I think he remained fairly sober until I left in Feb. By the time I got back in September he was in a bad state again. He must have drank a serious amount in the next few months. I bought him tome jazzy pants from Peru and he wore them with great pride. My last gift to him.

My grandma phoned on new years Eve and we both knew it was the end. We got to the ward and he was extremely confused. He went into a vegetative state after 2 days and his face would grimace. That was truly awful. He went lasted until the 7th January.

My father had anxiety from childhood. He would be physically sick through nerves. He suffered with homesickness to the point he had to be collected from camp. Not knowing why causes me to imagine all kinds of scenarios and reasons for his drinking. Any kind of bad event was treated with alcohol.