I Lost My Father to Alcoholism(both)
Yeah, he died of Cirrhosis of the Liver, aged 64.
My Father was a functioning alcoholic who held down a Tradesman's Job, paid for all the necessaries of five children. Fed, Clothed and put us all through school.
That is where it ended.
He done what was necessary and no more. Never once did we have a talk, never once did he offer any advice on life.
My Father would finish work at 4 pm everyday and would go to the pub until it closed.
Be it 11 pm, or Midnight. Every day. Weekends he would get pissed at the Pigeon Club. He never had pigeons, but the Pigeon Club would open at 8 am on a Saturday and Sunday. The bar was open at that time.
At age 60, dad was diagnosed with Liver disease and he stopped drinking. At about that same time he retired early so was left with too much time on his hands.
Dad was bored beyond belief, having no other interest outside of his drinking.
My father was so bored with life that after 18 months of not drinking, he started drinking again. Knowing that it would kill him prematurely.
He made the decision to drink himself to death because he did not want to live a life without alcohol.
Two years after he recommenced drinking he died of liver failure.
I went to visit him in Hospital several times. The hospital was in the City, 250 km's away.
On my second last visit, the Doctor told me that he would be dead within the week.
So when I went one final time, we both knew that it would be the last time we would see each other and no words needed to be said.
As I walked out the door, I turned back to look at him and he was silently crying, I said good bye and never saw him again.
I was twenty five.
Home life growing up was fraught with misery and despair.
What with an alcoholic Father, a Mother who was so, so sad living in a loveless marriage. Mum took her frustrations out on us children and would beat us regularly for what? Minor infractions.
Mum started an affair with someone who showed her love and affection and my Father found out and threw her out of the house.
I was seven at the time.
My Mother's Mother, my Grandmother, came from far away to raise us children and was ill prepared for what she had walked into.
After about 3 months she became vicious and started beating us kids as well.
Her method of punishment was a solid, hardwood broom handle cut down to three feet in length. She would not hold back and beat us mercilessly.
What an environment to be raised in.
The reason for this post is to say to those of you who struggle with alcohol addiction, continuing down the same path, day after day will lead to a life of misery.
Because of my situation, I began to steal money from dad, it was easy, he was virtually in a coma, when asleep.
I was miserable at home, I was bullied at school, I was beaten regularly by my peers who saw me as an easy target.
With the money I was stealing I would get adults to buy me alcohol. I started drinking at age twelve and by age fifteen was what is considered today, an alcoholic.
I started working at age fifteen so had my own money and started to emulate what my father was doing.
Finishing work at 4 pm, I too would go to the pub until it closed. You need to understand that in a small country town in the late 70's no one cared if a person was underage.
Plus I was the son of one of the most revered person in the town.
Alcohol also claimed the life of my Brother, who at 32 years of age was brain damaged through alcohol and died of unknown causes in suspicious circumstances.
I will relate two incidents regarding the negative effects of my drinking.
How, when we are drunk we are not in control.
Incident one.
Walking home from a late night drinking session, I was 500 meters from home. Walking past a car I happened to notice the keys were in the ignition, I could actually see my house but made the decision to get in that car and drive the 1/2 mile home.
Drunks make stupid decisions. As I got near to home, I decided to go for a joy ride.
Straight past my house, I continued out of town, and drove for at least ten miles before I failed to take a corner and crashed the car.
So I had to walk ten miles back home, hiding in the bushes whenever a car approached. Took me about 5 hours to get home after being no more than 1/2 a mile from home. Stupidity
Incident two.
The day before I fled my home state, I stayed the night with my Father's best friend who had moved to another town and was running a General store/Takeaway place.
I was drinking stubbies out back of the shop where the deep fryer was. It was lunch time and there was always a crowd at that time.
My beer had become warm, there was about 100 mls left.
What did I do? I tipped it into the hot deep fryer.
The hot oil bubbled furiously and overflowed all over the floor. At least half the oil, say 20 liters ended up flooding the kitchen, at the busiest time of the day.
Total disaster. Stupidity.
I have written enough to show you that alcoholism destroys not only the alcoholic, but it has a severe detrimental effect on those around you.
They may tolerate you, but they would rather you were not around.
As I have written previously, I was able to give up the booze after hitting rock bottom.
I went to one meeting of AA and found it was not for me. Half the people there were drunk.
The reason I was able to stop is because I wanted to stop.
Only the alcoholic can make that decision. No use trying to stop drinking if you do not want to stop drinking.
My life has show me that it takes inner strength to achieve what it is you truly want.
Those of you struggling with the booze, believe in yourself and you too can kick the habit. But only if you want to.
My Father was a functioning alcoholic who held down a Tradesman's Job, paid for all the necessaries of five children. Fed, Clothed and put us all through school.
That is where it ended.
He done what was necessary and no more. Never once did we have a talk, never once did he offer any advice on life.
My Father would finish work at 4 pm everyday and would go to the pub until it closed.
Be it 11 pm, or Midnight. Every day. Weekends he would get pissed at the Pigeon Club. He never had pigeons, but the Pigeon Club would open at 8 am on a Saturday and Sunday. The bar was open at that time.
At age 60, dad was diagnosed with Liver disease and he stopped drinking. At about that same time he retired early so was left with too much time on his hands.
Dad was bored beyond belief, having no other interest outside of his drinking.
My father was so bored with life that after 18 months of not drinking, he started drinking again. Knowing that it would kill him prematurely.
He made the decision to drink himself to death because he did not want to live a life without alcohol.
Two years after he recommenced drinking he died of liver failure.
I went to visit him in Hospital several times. The hospital was in the City, 250 km's away.
On my second last visit, the Doctor told me that he would be dead within the week.
So when I went one final time, we both knew that it would be the last time we would see each other and no words needed to be said.
As I walked out the door, I turned back to look at him and he was silently crying, I said good bye and never saw him again.
I was twenty five.
Home life growing up was fraught with misery and despair.
What with an alcoholic Father, a Mother who was so, so sad living in a loveless marriage. Mum took her frustrations out on us children and would beat us regularly for what? Minor infractions.
Mum started an affair with someone who showed her love and affection and my Father found out and threw her out of the house.
I was seven at the time.
My Mother's Mother, my Grandmother, came from far away to raise us children and was ill prepared for what she had walked into.
After about 3 months she became vicious and started beating us kids as well.
Her method of punishment was a solid, hardwood broom handle cut down to three feet in length. She would not hold back and beat us mercilessly.
What an environment to be raised in.
The reason for this post is to say to those of you who struggle with alcohol addiction, continuing down the same path, day after day will lead to a life of misery.
Because of my situation, I began to steal money from dad, it was easy, he was virtually in a coma, when asleep.
I was miserable at home, I was bullied at school, I was beaten regularly by my peers who saw me as an easy target.
With the money I was stealing I would get adults to buy me alcohol. I started drinking at age twelve and by age fifteen was what is considered today, an alcoholic.
I started working at age fifteen so had my own money and started to emulate what my father was doing.
Finishing work at 4 pm, I too would go to the pub until it closed. You need to understand that in a small country town in the late 70's no one cared if a person was underage.
Plus I was the son of one of the most revered person in the town.
Alcohol also claimed the life of my Brother, who at 32 years of age was brain damaged through alcohol and died of unknown causes in suspicious circumstances.
I will relate two incidents regarding the negative effects of my drinking.
How, when we are drunk we are not in control.
Incident one.
Walking home from a late night drinking session, I was 500 meters from home. Walking past a car I happened to notice the keys were in the ignition, I could actually see my house but made the decision to get in that car and drive the 1/2 mile home.
Drunks make stupid decisions. As I got near to home, I decided to go for a joy ride.
Straight past my house, I continued out of town, and drove for at least ten miles before I failed to take a corner and crashed the car.
So I had to walk ten miles back home, hiding in the bushes whenever a car approached. Took me about 5 hours to get home after being no more than 1/2 a mile from home. Stupidity
Incident two.
The day before I fled my home state, I stayed the night with my Father's best friend who had moved to another town and was running a General store/Takeaway place.
I was drinking stubbies out back of the shop where the deep fryer was. It was lunch time and there was always a crowd at that time.
My beer had become warm, there was about 100 mls left.
What did I do? I tipped it into the hot deep fryer.
The hot oil bubbled furiously and overflowed all over the floor. At least half the oil, say 20 liters ended up flooding the kitchen, at the busiest time of the day.
Total disaster. Stupidity.
I have written enough to show you that alcoholism destroys not only the alcoholic, but it has a severe detrimental effect on those around you.
They may tolerate you, but they would rather you were not around.
As I have written previously, I was able to give up the booze after hitting rock bottom.
I went to one meeting of AA and found it was not for me. Half the people there were drunk.
The reason I was able to stop is because I wanted to stop.
Only the alcoholic can make that decision. No use trying to stop drinking if you do not want to stop drinking.
My life has show me that it takes inner strength to achieve what it is you truly want.
Those of you struggling with the booze, believe in yourself and you too can kick the habit. But only if you want to.
