“It’s not her that hates you, it’s the disease”
When the bell rung at 3pm, most of my friends couldn’t wait to get out of school. For me, I dreaded that sound.
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When the bell rung at 3pm, most of my friends couldn’t wait to get out of school. For me, I dreaded that sound.
When I look back I seem to have spent a lot of my childhood cleaning, the only way I could make myself calm in the chaos.
I never knew how I would feel the day I lost her as our relationship was turbulent.
But the thing that keeps me strong is help lines and I realise I am not alone.
I realised that I had kept all my feelings bottled inside me for so many years.
I kind of treated her illness as my illness, as though we were both alcoholics.
My teenage years were blighted by alcohol having a higher priority than me.
I know what it means to live in poverty with parents who spend first on alcohol and cigarettes.
I don’t think you ever recover from growing up with an alcoholic parent. What is interesting is how far you go to hide it.
My sister and I have been the children of an alcoholic since we can remember.
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