This blog has been lame. But I will pick it up and persevere. Because not only do I rescue living creatures from certain death, I persevere. I am an adult child of an alcoholic. That beginning has set me on a journey of self discovery and an unveiling of the product of two people just trying to make it through life without a lot of help. They loved each other. They drank and then did not love each other so much. My sister and brother were many years older than me and went through the same things but together and with other escapes. I just had mom and dad in their dysfunction.
Why am I remembering this? Why now? Maybe if a parent reads this and can change, great. Maybe if a young person reads this and can cope, even better. Many of my childhood photos look like I am suffering from post traumatic stress disorder- the day after a violent tirade and good beat down on mom. I saw the beatings, heard the breaking of dishes, furniture, saw the tears from both.
I absorbed it all. A child can't help it. A child is an empty vessel waiting to be filled. And all that pain, the guilt, the selfishness and the low self image that goes with two people involved in domestic violence transfers directly to the child filling him or her up. And then the curse of the father goes on.
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