I never knew when I came home from school whether she would be sober, drunk or dead.
I loved my mum so much, but I was frustrated as I couldn’t understand why, if she loved me, she wouldn’t just stop drinking.
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I loved my mum so much, but I was frustrated as I couldn’t understand why, if she loved me, she wouldn’t just stop drinking.
The pain at hearing my dad had died was immeasurable, my world stopped but the world continued to turn.
All I feel now is sadness at what my dad went through, I truly believe no one chooses to become an alcoholic, it can just happen.
I have had to and continue to learn how to find new ways of being.
He was heavily reliant on me and used to call me all the time to drive him places, take him to the shops etc.
To the outside world my family appeared perfect.
You’d walk home wondering what mess she was in, and what you would have to do to keep the peace.
The most surprising thing to me is just how many people think and feel exactly as I do and how it is all so closely linked to being a COA.
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 can’t do anything for my mother – she doesn’t want me, she wants brandy.
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