Crying inside, nowhere to go
The fight to stay sane is sometimes so difficult there were, and are, times when I wonder if it was all worth it.
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The fight to stay sane is sometimes so difficult there were, and are, times when I wonder if it was all worth it.
As a perfect child of an alcoholic, I had not told anyone my story. Even my husband had not heard the whole tale, only bits gleaned from snatches of conversation.
I had three daddies. ‘Nice daddy’, ‘funny daddy’ who was just slightly drunk, and then of course ‘nasty daddy’.
As far as I was concerned, it was my fault she did this.
I always felt so alone and scared whilst being a part of an extremely loving family.
“I love/hate you”, “I’m proud of you” / “ What the hell are you doing with your life?
Me and my brother were placed together and we had an amazing foster mum.
What I don’t ever do though is say out loud, mum you’re drinking too much, have you thought about stopping.
I was daddy’s girl, the guilt I felt when I realized what he had done to my family but I’d been to wrapped up in how much love I had for him to see it.
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