A life with alcohol
Anonymous by Anonymous
Since about the age of 8 I've watched my dad drink himself into a state night in night out. He would have a pint whilst playing a game with us that would be the norm for a Sunday night whilst mum cooked the dinner, it never really bothered me that much as alcohol has always been in this house and always will be, but it was around the age of eight he started drinking heavily. During the day he is sober , holding down a job, working 9-6 in an office. He's not the 'stereotypical alcoholic'. But he's still an alcoholic.
It wasn't just Sunday nights he would drink. It was and still is every night. I can remember when his drinking would get out of control and still does. I have always felt different from my friends - in school most Monday mornings or days would start with sharing what we did at the weekend, most people would say they spent time with their dad, or that they took them somewhere, when it got to me what could I say ? 'Dad just drank' No. Talking about dad and his drinking isn't something we were allowed to do and we still don't really talk about it.
It wasn't really till my bed times got later and later that I really began to notice how much my dad drinks. A pint maybe 3 pints of beer a night was all I saw aged 8. Once I got to the age of about 11 my bedtime had got later and it was then that I was seeing my dad drinking more and more and more (and still am). But it was about this age I was beginning to notice my dad passing out on the sofa and having friends round was getting hard as they would want to stay later and this would mean them seeing dad drunk! So if they came round or come round I usually make sure they are gone by early evening. I was going to school tired and exhausted from waiting up for dad to either go to bed or pass out on the sofa and trying to wake him up. I was getting angry in school not just because of what was going on at home but also because of I was getting bullied at school it was like where ever I went I was dealing with name calling and abuse. It was like there was no escape from it at all. I was labelled as naughty and badly behaved.Threatened with suspension and isolation and put on report.
I began to bunk class. Hang around in town and bunk school.
If I did attend lessons people would irritate me and annoy me and I would get angry. No one ever asked if I was okay and simply just assumed that was how I was. The reality was at home I was trying to juggle school work and my dads drinking with the abuse and arguments and avoid getting in trouble at school. Yet I could not tell anyone at school what was happening, I couldn't find the words and really didn't know how to actually word it and I felt like telling would ruin the family and destroy the family secret. So I kept quiet. I'd fall asleep in classes, I'd get angry, yet most of the time I would act like everything was fine.
My attendance fell from 100% attendance to like 50% attendance, again this was put down to me being a trouble maker and me just not being bothered about education, my grades slipped in year 7 and 8 I was getting my homework in on time the majority of the time , as time went on I missed deadlines, didn't bother with handing it in, if I did do homework it would be sloppy, rushed sometimes done on the bus or the train on the way to school. There were times where I was getting A* on projects in years 7-8. Years 9-11 homework was not something I would consider important or have the time to do I would come home from school and run up to my room and just lie on my bed and cry, calm down, tidy my room, and then I would watch TV, have dinner and by then dad was home and then it was all about dealing with dad - arguments were a nightly event, sometimes we would have three to four arguments in one night.
If it was a ''good'' night and we only had one or two arguments I would manage to get some homework done before having to deal with dad and wake him up off the sofa etc.
I got the grades I needed for college - but college proved to be just as hard - though my attendance did seem to be better - I would sometimes turn up late - I was getting angrier and angrier it got to the point where the smallest thing could set me off if some one said something to me I did not like I would be up out of my seat and shouting, other times I would completely shut down and just stop talking - my tutor noticed and took me aside and asked me what was going I said nothing at first, I had a few friends and one of my friends did find out about my dad - this friend became my rock - they phoned me most nights to make sure I was ok and that dad was not getting violent, they offered me a place at their house if I ever needed it, they gave me a card with numbers on it to call for if I was ever to be picked out, they spoke to the police for me but made it out it was a friend of a friend. I don't think I would have made it through the first year of college without that friend. This friend is also the friend who encouraged me to contact Child-line.
I did phone up Child-line. They became a safe place for me. I talked about dad, the bullying, the self harming ( by now I was self harming many times a day) there'd be times where I would ring child-line crying my eyes out.
College was also the first time I had any type of involvement with socials services - I was taken to a little room where there was a college counsellor and a child protection officer and my course team leader and another person, they told me social services were going to be involved whether I wanted them to be or not - someone had told them about my dad - panic went through me - was he going to get arrested , what was going to happen to my family. A social worker came out to see me at college the next day and again I was shut in a room with some people and was forced to talk. They closed the case. I learned to not trust social services.
I was left to muddle on through, I moved colleges after. It was at this college that my tutor first saw the cuts on my arms and asked me about them - pointing to them and saying what are those on your arms , she asked me this in front of the whole class, I pulled my sleeves down and told her it was nothing when really the night before I had used a safety pin to cut myself with.
It was like I was smiling on the outside but on the inside screaming out for someone to help me and notice me and offer me some sort of way out. No one who I saw on a daily basis at college etc did this.
I began to look for help myself and found a few places most of these were websites - some websites were less helpful than others - there's two websites I use on a regular basis.
I grew to old for child-line.
I now use another help-line this helpline along with the websites have become a safe place for me, somewhere where I can talk about things and be understood.
Talking hasn't solved my dad and it has not helped him stop drinking - but I do now know that I cannot stop my dad from drinking and that is something has to do himself.
I still look after my dad and wake him up off the sofa on a weekly basis.
Talking might not stop him drinking but talking about it really does help as keeping it inside does not do anyone any good.