i have never met my mom, well i have but i was very young. when i was 5, my parents got a divorce so my dad took me to a different country and since then i havent seen her. im 19 now. i dont know why she doesnt come to see me. she was an alcoholic and a drug addict. i dont know if she still is. so please songs comfort me so plz send me a song about this :):) thanks
Does anyone know the name of a movie about a girl who wins/earns a collage scholarship? The movie was based on a true story.
The movie outlines the early years of her life growing up with both parents addicted to drugs, her mom eventually dies of a drug overdose and because they were an impoverished family with very little money, the mom ends up in a coffin cheaply made out of plywood and she gets buried in one of those mass graves they have for people who can’t afford there own plot.
The movie ends with the girl using the scholarship to get a masters degree.
The movie was based on a real life story.
I know this is very, very long, but please, bear with me. I need some advice badly.
Well, I’m in a pickle I guess you could say. My mother is 66 years old. She had a very rough childhood growing up poor in the 1940′s and 50′s and what not and she was in an abusive marriage for nearly 26 years. She had three children. The eldest (my sister) is 45, the second eldest (also my sister) is 42 going on 43. I’m the last child (and the only male of course) and I’m going to be 25 very soon. My mother sacrificed a lot for the three of us and unfortunately for me she has never learned to let go of her children. And my problem is twofold when you consider the fact that my mother has no kind of savings (she has tried) and still has to work. I along with my niece live with my mother in an apartment and I give her 400 dollars monthly plus any money I spend from time to time on groceries, water or take-out for everyone.
I’m dating this wonderful woman for about a year now who is nearly eight years my senior and things are getting quite serious. We’ve already seriously discussed marriage and I love her and she is good to me.
But to my mother, this girl poses a double threat. Not only does she get much of my attention, she also believes that now that I’m dating this woman, we’ll get a house together and that she will have nowhere to live and that I’m spending my money foolishly on her (which isn’t true) and even if it was, she’s worth it.
My mother’s hard life and marriage has made her extremely bitter and she feels that the world owes her for being the best mother ever (do you detect the sarcasm?) and she puts me (mostly since I live with her) and my siblings on guilt trips to places as far as New Zealand. None of my older siblings have houses and to my mother that’s equates to being a drug addict living in a halfway house. She constantly berates my sisters and myself for not getting a home so she can have a place to live.
I’m working on getting a place. I already have over 8000 saved up. I’m just waiting to finish off my car loan which should be sometime late this year or very early next year. The only problem is I don’t want to live with my mother anymore nor do I want her to live with me. She’s one of the most miserable people I’ve ever met and she’s been like this for as long as I can remember. And I really don’t think her having a room in my home would make her any happier. She’s looking for happiness in a house and I don’t think she’s going to find it. Along with guilt trips, she often thinks she’s better off dead and said she understood why one of my relatives wished for it. I was so angry, hurt and frustrated when she said that. For a moment I wanted that wish to come true, but I came to my senses. Another that gets my goat with her is that nothing ever satisfies her, she’s never happy and she constantly compares her “shitty” life to the lives of other single mothers who managed to get homes and whose children manged to get homes who came to Nassau (Bahamas, she migrated from Matthew Town, Inagua) the same time she did.
I know if I marry my girlfriend, my mother will detest the relationship for the foreseeable future. There was one time earlier this year that mother said she never wanted to live with a daughter in law anyway which implied to me that she never wanted me to get married since she wanted me to get a house so she could live with me.
My mother’s bitter attitude has driven a wedge between us and she doesn’t want to let me grow up. She still tries to do everything for me and even my middle sister who is 42 and single and childless brings her laundry there every weekend and my mother washes it all. She spoiled us which made independence difficult for me as a man, especially. She constantly makes her children’s problems her own and is often driven to tears because of it. I’ve tried talking to her, I’ve prayed about it. I’ve asked my older coworkers for advice and I’m fairly certain of what I’m going to do, it’s just that no-one will like it. My eldest sister just recently got married and she sends what she can (which isn’t good enough) and my second sister makes much more than I do but spends her money on expensive clothes, shoes and jewelry. They could do more to help my mother out financially but it looks like everyone expects the issue to fall on my shoulders and I’m intent on not letting that happen. She has two older children who should have been making a way for her. I mean I was I little child when they were in their late twenties for God’s sake.
I can’t tolerate my mother’s negative attitude towards me, my choices and life in general. If I sleep over at my girlfriend’s place, she goes nuts and goes into her bitching mode. “I sacrificed everything for my children and no-one wants to do anything for me. Dogs get treated better than me. I’d be better off dead. I’m a good mother. I’ve done everything right in my life” etc.
I’m at the point where her sob stories and guilt tr
I’m at the point where her sob stories and guilt trips don’t work anymore. I mean, hell, she’s been doing them for over 20 years and it got old. I’m more than ready to move out but I know she need financial help and my sisters need to do more. After reading this epistle, does anyone have any advice for me? I know that if I’m unhappy living with her now, her living with me as a married man will only be worse.
To Emma M:
LOL. Nah, Emma. I don’t have any family in New Zealand. I just said my mother’s awful guilt trips would take you that far.
so heres the situation: i saw a picture of her smoking a cigar with young friends down at city walk (cali). to let you know more about us (so you can help):
we are both 17 (she’s 3 months exactly older than me). she acts 17 (duh) has 10 siblings most younger and only a couple friends that are 20. i was raised with adults and have no younger siblings and only have 2 friends under 19 (the rest are 30-). everyone treats me as an adult and thinks i’m 25 when they meet me. i work, i pull my own weight, and have bought my own clothes since i was twelve.
she was raised over the top conservitive and homeschooled, wasnt aloud to where pants until she was sixteen and wasnt alowed male friends untill 15. her mother is english, my father is dutch….so you can imagine. idk how english people raise there kids i just know that in my house, with a DUTCH dad, you have a job when your six, you wake up on time, and you dont sit in the living room unless company is over (in other words, i was raised to be VERY responsible and independant). to make it short, she was raised obviously different than me. i (and my siblings) have a LOT of freedom because we were raised extremely responsible (you can smoke cigars and drink at ocasions (yes under age) BECAUSE you have grown into the responibility of not over doing it and have a full understanding of what alchohol (and cigars) can do. she had NO freedom what so ever untill actually about 6 months ago an she was aloud to have her own group of friends that the family didnt meet (btw my dad wont let me ahve friends he hasnt met)
the things is…..i got SO protective of her when i saw that picture! and i dont know why! i honestly want to know why can someone please help? i know i have YEARS of experience and wisdom on her from being raised the way i was and by adults. ALSO having led my own life independantly of my family forever (thats just the dutch way). her parents STILL control everything she does (and her 20 year old sister that lives at home). so i was thinking maybe thats why!?? its because i know EXACTLY that “scene” i know what happens when you do that and you DONT have the wisdom of a person who’s done it a LONG time. its like living with an alcoholic and not knowing a thing about alcoholism or knowing even what alcoholic is. so seeing her ALONE in LA (where i’m from (she’s not)) with NO male or anyone older than 17, smoking, walking in the dark in heels and a short dress is like watching someone shoot heroine in a glass room when you abnging on the door and they cant here you. because i know that SO well and she doesnt at all, i lived in nashville too…you just dont go walkin at night with only girls in a short dress and heels where there are no lights.
i’m not sure ;( that really feels like the reason but maybe its not.
I know this is very, very long, but please, bear with me. I need some advice badly.
Well, I’m in a pickle I guess you could say. My mother is 66 years old. She had a very rough childhood growing up poor in the 1940′s and 50′s and what not and she was in an abusive marriage for nearly 26 years. She had three children. The eldest (my sister) is 45, the second eldest (also my sister) is 42 going on 43. I’m the last child (and the only male of course) and I’m going to be 25 very soon. My mother sacrificed a lot for the three of us and unfortunately for me she has never learned to let go of her children. And my problem is twofold when you consider the fact that my mother has no kind of savings (she has tried) and still has to work. I along with my niece live with my mother in an apartment and I give her 400 dollars monthly plus any money I spend from time to time on groceries, water or take-out for everyone.
I’m dating this wonderful woman for about a year now who is nearly eight years my senior and things are getting quite serious. We’ve already seriously discussed marriage and I love her and she is good to me.
But to my mother, this girl poses a double threat. Not only does she get much of my attention, she also believes that now that I’m dating this woman, we’ll get a house together and that she will have nowhere to live and that I’m spending my money foolishly on her (which isn’t true) and even if it was, she’s worth it.
My mother’s hard life and marriage has made her extremely bitter and she feels that the world owes her for being the best mother ever (do you detect the sarcasm?) and she puts me (mostly since I live with her) and my siblings on guilt trips to places as far as New Zealand. None of my older siblings have houses and to my mother that’s equates to being a drug addict living in a halfway house. She constantly berates my sisters and myself for not getting a home so she can have a place to live.
I’m working on getting a place. I already have over 8000 saved up. I’m just waiting to finish off my car loan which should be sometime late this year or very early next year. The only problem is I don’t want to live with my mother anymore nor do I want her to live with me. She’s one of the most miserable people I’ve ever met and she’s been like this for as long as I can remember. And I really don’t think her having a room in my home would make her any happier. She’s looking for happiness in a house and I don’t think she’s going to find it. Along with guilt trips, she often thinks she’s better off dead and said she understood why one of my relatives wished for it. I was so angry, hurt and frustrated when she said that. For a moment I wanted that wish to come true, but I came to my senses. Another that gets my goat with her is that nothing ever satisfies her, she’s never happy and she constantly compares her “shitty” life to the lives of other single mothers who managed to get homes and whose children manged to get homes who came to Nassau (Bahamas, she migrated from Matthew Town, Inagua) the same time she did.
I know if I marry my girlfriend, my mother will detest the relationship for the foreseeable future. There was one time earlier this year that mother said she never wanted to live with a daughter in law anyway which implied to me that she never wanted me to get married since she wanted me to get a house so she could live with me.
My mother’s bitter attitude has driven a wedge between us and she doesn’t want to let me grow up. She still tries to do everything for me and even my middle sister who is 42 and single and childless brings her laundry there every weekend and my mother washes it all. She spoiled us which made independence difficult for me as a man, especially. She constantly makes her children’s problems her own and is often driven to tears because of it. I’ve tried talking to her, I’ve prayed about it. I’ve asked my older coworkers for advice and I’m fairly certain of what I’m going to do, it’s just that no-one will like it. My eldest sister just recently got married and she sends what she can (which isn’t good enough) and my second sister makes much more than I do but spends her money on expensive clothes, shoes and jewelry. They could do more to help my mother out financially but it looks like everyone expects the issue to fall on my shoulders and I’m intent on not letting that happen. She has two older children who should have been making a way for her. I mean I was I little child when they were in their late twenties for God’s sake.
I can’t tolerate my mother’s negative attitude towards me, my choices and life in general. If I sleep over at my girlfriend’s place, she goes nuts and goes into her bitching mode. “I sacrificed everything for my children and no-one wants to do anything for me. Dogs get treated better than me. I’d be better off dead. I’m a good mother. I’ve done everything right in my life” etc.
I’m at the point where her sob stories and guilt tr
I’m at the point where her sob stories and guilt trips don’t work anymore. I mean, hell, she’s been doing them for over 20 years and it got old. I’m more than ready to move out but I know she need financial help and my sisters need to do more. After reading this epistle, does anyone have any advice for me? I know that if I’m unhappy living with her now, her living with me as a married man will only be worse.
To Emma M:
LOL. Nah, Emma. I don’t have any family in New Zealand. I just said my mother’s awful guilt trips would take you that far.
My best friend shelby and i have been best friends and lived next door to eachother for about 4 years we practically lived with eachother her mom was my mom my mom was hers. Her mom was always a great person she loved everyone always wanted to help she was really strong on her beliefs she always wore skirts and she was very christian and loving. They moved a few months ago and i havn’t been able to see them that much. I talked to shelby a few weeks ago and told me her mom was in the hospital for depresion. I was really worried about her so much. Also Shelby’s Drug Addict uncle is living with them (i dont know why). I called alot and they never answered. I called today and Shelby said that her mom pierced her nose and her navel and is wearing pants. I am really worried and sad that my second mom is not herself and im thinking maybe her drug addict brother is being a bad example for her and i am really worried what should i do?
Hi there.
My mother constantly lies to me. She makes up stories that never happened like a child trying to impress new friends would do. The stories are extreme and worrisome, like she once said somebody tried to rape her! She brags to people constantly, but it’s always exaggerated to an extreme degree or completely false.
When she asked me to help her with some of her online accounts, I discovered that she e-mails men behind my father’s back. She makes up lies about our family and herself. She also offers to buy things for these people!
Sometimes the lies are minimal. Like, her and my father help pay for my college and she will say that “UGH! I would love to go to Florida (though she’s never mentioned wanting to go, I feel like some things she just says to say), but I have to pay for my daughter’s tuition/apartment/etc!” This isn’t true. I have a job and pay for my own expenses. But it’s a small lie. She will also exaggerate her illnesses and tell people when I have small infections.
But sometimes the lies are huge. (ie; the rape one, lies she has said about my dad, telling people my brother is addicted to drugs.)
They aren’t always negative lies though. Sometimes it will be about positive things. “My daughter is going to be a lawyer!” “My husband makes 500,000 dollars a year!”
I think it’s just so odd. And I can’t take it anymore! I just try not to snap at her every moment I’m with her. She constantly calls me to load me with more lies. I love her, but I don’t like her.
Does anyone have any ideas about her behavior? Like why does she feel the need to lie all the time?! and any tips for handling this? Please, it’s driving me crazy. I’ve been dealing with this my whole life and I’ve since systematically been trying to get away from her, but she keeps haunting me with it!
I think I killed for the first time when I was thirteen years old. It wasn’t a big deal. None of my murders were. It’s not as if any of them were particularly malicious or anything. I mean, I did have my reasons. Of course I did. Everybody has their reasons. Mostly, though, I did it just to fill the time. It’s really not that much of a big deal. Some people get an Xbox or buy a pet or study for exams to fill time. I kill people. It’s as simple as that. If you ask me, the only thing slightly strange thing was that I did it when I was only thirteen years old. And they say that girls mature quicker than boys.
Let me explain what I’m talking about.
I think the first question to get out the way is: how does a thirteen-year-old start thinking about murder? Well, I was always an early developer. The truth is, I was highly intelligent from a very young age, both in a book-ish kind of way and also, as I would find out later, in a serial killer-ish kind of way.
The main reason that I so candidly thought about murder, though, was not my intelligence, but my home life. My mother had died during childbirth, so I guess that I experienced death in my first moments on Earth. I’m not sure how much I was processing having just left the womb, but certainly it seems to have had an effect. I suppose you could say, that was the beginning of it.
A while after my mum passed away, my father turned to alcohol, a hobby he continued up to my thirteenth birthday. The alcoholism bothered my brother, Mike. He was a few years older than me but I was always ahead of him mentally. Mike used to come through to my room at night and find me on my bed, reading a book – Ripley’s Game, or something like that – and say, “Nicholas, are you awake? Dad’s shouting again.”
“I know,” I would snap back, “I have ears too.”
“What should we do?” he would moan.
“Just do something to keep your mind of it,” I’d tell him, “like read or write or something.”
“But I don’t like reading,” Mike would complain, at which point I decided to ignore him.
Seeing my father that way every night – shouting, bawling that he was going to kick our skulls in – it made me tough. Of course I knew that a man so drunk would never have the composure to make it up the stairs, so I was not particularly worried but his threats: I would just read away, happily in another world. Looking back on it, though, it definitely did change me – seeing another human being addicted to the very same thing that was destroying them. I never thought that would happen to me. At the time, though, I really thought very little of it – in the mornings I would step over my father’s sleeping, slobbering body at the bottom of the stairs, collect my school bag and walk straight out the door for school. I even found it amusing to shout, “Bye Dad,” knowing in witty irony that I would never get a response.
Soon, though, Mike began on the drink too. And I wasn’t too fond of that. It was out of principal, you see. By the time I was old enough to understand my Dad’s addiction, he was already beyond rescuing. Mike, on the other hand, I had known when he was a normal person. Mike, I could save. So I thought about it. I had a lot of free time since school didn’t challenge me much and, obviously, there was no strict parent at home. I took a while to get my head around it, but ultimately I realised I had to destroy the thing that was encouraging Mike to drink. My first target, at thirteen years old, became my very own father.
At three am one morning, I snuck out of bed and found my father in his usual position: the bottom of the stairs. I went down to him and tried to drag him up. Being thirteen, this was a strenuous task. After all, my father had a beer belly that weighed the same as the rest of his body put together. So to heave this up each and every stair took a lot out of me. But I managed eventually. I went through to the bathroom, filled a glass with water, brought it back, and splashed it in his face. After a while, the giant awoke.
“Dad! Dad! Get up!” I exclaimed excitably.
As he got to his feet he began shouting slurred speech. He peered around, his eyes narrowed and mouth slightly open, a long drip of drool hanging from the edge of his lip. That’s when I gave a little push. It didn’t have to be hard. The alcohol did the rest. He stumbled a bit, and then teetered on the edge of the top stair for what seemed like an eternity. He clawed at the air, like that coyote from the cartoons, before tumbling backwards. I heard his neck make a satisfying crunch with the edge of a stair before his body clambered down to his usual resting point. I went down and felt his pulse, and once I was satisfied that I had been successful, I went back to bed. I woke up with my alarm clock at the usual time, went out my room, slapped my face in pretend shock, and called the police.
It was that simple.
If you have an alcoholic relative (mother – she drinks 130+ units a week and has done for the last 30 years), and who is also addicted to prescription meds, who refuses to admit she has a problem, and refuses to go to the doctors even for a health check (please don’t suggest ways of persuading her – my dad has been trying for 30 years and we’ve done everything we can), is there anything that can be done, or is it just a case of waiting for her to die? As in are there any intervention things we can do that won’t entail getting her out to a doctor? Or is alcoholism and depression ever sectionable? Please only answer if you know what you’re talking about. As I said, this is a question about what’s available in the UK, I’m aware there’s stuff in the US but that doesn’t exactly help me! Thanks.
I’m 20, my dad is 60 and has heart disease, works 5-6 days a week, drinks every night by himself, he’s on quite a lot of medication but his drinking has stepped up, today he must have consumed about 25-30 units of alcohol in beer. My brother who is also an alcoholic is in a similar situation but for now I’m worried about my dad. My mother died a decade ago, my dad has always been good to us, he had a drinking problem before but gave it up and about 5 years ago took it up again. He’s very sensitive about it, if I bring it up he doesn’t like it and I’m pretty sure a few years ago he got real defensive about it when I brought it up, he also said in the past it’s because the washing up is never done, now days I do 101 chores for the house but he seems to just change his reasons for drinking, almost as if they’re only excuses, he does work hard and if I bring it up he’ll probably say “ah it’s alright for you, you’re not the one working hard every day..” but I’m worried about his health, it’s going bad. My brother’s alcoholism and lifestyle is definitely affecting him and probably pushing him to drink more but my brother is the exact same story, denial denial denial, I can’t get through to these people, and don’t know where to start, please help.
ok this is gonna be a long description but here we go. Before becoming a freshmen in high school my grandfather warned me about druggies and drug dealers in high school and that i should stay away from them and said drugs would ruin my life and that i would be living off the streets and said I would rob banks, kill people, steal purses for drugs and said drugs are like cigarettes if i do not do them I will never have to worry about quitting and he said they would kill me and used elvis presley as an example on how successful he was and he died. My grandfather told me they will end up like my step mother who was an alcoholic who ended up on the streets. Even a cop came in and told me stuff about drugs. He said how marijuana is addictive and how these kids in college got up in the morning and smoked after lunch they would smoke and after classes were all done they would smoke and after dinner they would smoke for the rest of the night. He said they had never passed college. He told our class how this guy got addicted to heroin through smoking a weed laced with it. He told us how some one died from heroin the first time at a party. He said he has never met any one who said drugs were the best decision they have ever made. He said if you would use them you could do things you would never thought you would do like steal from a friend or family member and so on. I even know some one who stole 100 dollars from his parents to get an ounce of weed. But when ever it comes to on line things i hear a bunch of other things like peoples opinions about things saying there is nothing wrong about getting drunk all the time or getting high. They say under age drinking does not cause alcoholism irresponsible idiots do but under age drinking is being irresponsible. I have heard so may different opinions about drugs when it comes from paces such as yahoo or other places saying what cops and people and parents tell you about drugs is lies they try to scare you from doing them it is fun to get high. They are under control of the media. When i was taught no drug ever makes a persons life better things could just get worse in the long run whether it is days, months, years from now. I have heard so many stories about marijuana. They say it is safe and not addictive. People say marijuana has helped improve their life and made them successful. Look at willie nelson and a rumor about the beatles saying they came up with their songs while being high. Look at San Antonio Holmes he is a foot ball player even has been caught with it and failed a drug test and was traded. I just do not know who to believe every ones opinions has changed my thinking about drugs whats true whats not. They say you you should get a very reliable source but getting drugs from drug dealers is not a safe thing at all. People on line have told me that ecstasy is safe and not addictive. Hell I even read that cocaine is not addictive and it is safe off of here. People say lsd will make your life awesome and it is safe and all that stuff and it is not addictive. there are people who say if you use drugs responsibly you will do fine or if you know the consequences and use them safely you will do fine. It is like people always try to come up with excuses to do drugs. But this is a place for people’s opinion it is just i do not know who to believe anymore. I just do not want to make a wrong decision. I do not know why i even ask this here i probably will not get a straight answer at all. I just need help.
I am only 25, but I cant imagine ever wanting to have children. This upsets my parents/ mother-in-law deeply. I think that the world has become a really dark, scary place and I cant imagine bringing a child into it- things are only going to get worse!
I also believe that drugs, violence, and cancer-causing agents are rampant everywhere and so many people are going to fall victim to it. SO many kids I knew in college and high school who came from the nicest, richest, loving homes made the worst decisions regarding drugs/getting pregnant/alcoholism, etc….. I just think in a lot of ways that you can do everything RIGHT and still have a child who makes bad decisions that are irreversable- this day in age its hard to make good decisions because of the state of the world. Things have changed so much- my 11 year old sister only cares about text messaging already. I know lovely couples who did a great job raising their kids and are now heartbroken by their children’s decisions…. I also know lovely couples who are perfect gentlemen/ladies who are good people who somehow produced absolute horrible human beings somehow.
Am I being realistic about how hard it would be to have kids or am I just young? Did anyone else feel this way and then change their minds??
I just found out that my grandmother killed herself. She was old (about 79) and struggled a lot with overcoming alcoholism and depression. She was very overweight and had arthritis all over her body, so she was in a lot of pain. She spend time alone, didn’t leave the house much, and, though she lived on my street, we never really saw her because she would always get in fights with my mother and her six other children, so no one really wanted to be around her very long. She was very Catholic — or at least tried to be. She lived her life by it, though she often fell into sin. I know you’re not supposed to commit suicide, but she was sick and in a lot of pain. What does the Church say?
just abuse even though my grandmother raised me she was just as mean as my mother. Honeslty out the too. I would say my grandmoter was the worst she did the nastiest thing. I think my mother WOULD NEVER DO. Anyway one day I asked my grandmother can she ask my mother why she dont love me or treat me so cruel, my grandmother said in a nasty tone you ask her yourself. My grandmother knew I was so, so scared of my mother even just to talk to her. me and my mom never talked I dont know why.
Now my mother is dead and I dont regret asking her, cause I was scared I just wanted to know why didn’t my grandmother wanted to do that for me, and why was she just as mean to me. Do you think she was mean to my mother. I heard my grandmother took me away from my mother so she can always have a check. My grandmother was a drug addict real bad. but why did my mother treated me so bad also.
thanks too the both of you. Anon that was pretty deep.
I think I killed for the first time when I was thirteen years old. It wasn’t a big deal. None of my murders were. It’s not as if any of them were particularly malicious or anything. I mean, I did have my reasons. Of course I did. Everybody has their reasons. Mostly, though, I did it just to fill the time. It’s really not that much of a big deal. Some people get an Xbox or buy a pet or study for exams to fill time. I kill people. It’s as simple as that. If you ask me, the only thing slightly strange thing was that I did it when I was only thirteen years old. And they say that girls mature quicker than boys.
Let me explain what I’m talking about.
I think the first question to get out the way is: how does a thirteen-year-old start thinking about murder? Well, I was always an early developer. The truth is, I was highly intelligent from a very young age, both in a book-ish kind of way and also, as I would find out later, in a serial killer-ish kind of way.
The main reason that I so candidly thought about murder, though, was not my intelligence, but my home life. My mother had died during childbirth, so I guess that I experienced death in my first moments on Earth. I’m not sure how much I was processing having just left the womb, but certainly it seems to have had an effect. I suppose you could say, that was the beginning of it.
A while after my mum passed away, my father turned to alcohol, a hobby he continued up to my thirteenth birthday. The alcoholism bothered my brother, Mike. He was a few years older than me but I was always ahead of him mentally. Mike used to come through to my room at night and find me on my bed, reading a book – Ripley’s Game, or something like that – and say, “Nicholas, are you awake? Dad’s shouting again.”
“I know,” I would snap back, “I have ears too.”
“What should we do?” he would moan.
“Just do something to keep your mind of it,” I’d tell him, “like read or write or something.”
“But I don’t like reading,” Mike would complain, at which point I decided to ignore him.
Seeing my father that way every night – shouting, bawling that he was going to kick our skulls in – it made me tough. Of course I knew that a man so drunk would never have the composure to make it up the stairs, so I was not particularly worried but his threats: I would just read away, happily in another world. Looking back on it, though, it definitely did change me – seeing another human being addicted to the very same thing that was destroying them. I never thought that would happen to me. At the time, though, I really thought very little of it – in the mornings I would step over my father’s sleeping, slobbering body at the bottom of the stairs, collect my school bag and walk straight out the door for school. I even found it amusing to shout, “Bye Dad,” knowing in witty irony that I would never get a response.
Soon, though, Mike began on the drink too. And I wasn’t too fond of that. It was out of principal, you see. By the time I was old enough to understand my Dad’s addiction, he was already beyond rescuing. Mike, on the other hand, I had known when he was a normal person. Mike, I could save. So I thought about it. I had a lot of free time since school didn’t challenge me much and, obviously, there was no strict parent at home. I took a while to get my head around it, but ultimately I realised I had to destroy the thing that was encouraging Mike to drink. My first target, at thirteen years old, became my very own father.
At three am one morning, I snuck out of bed and found my father in his usual position: the bottom of the stairs. I went down to him and tried to drag him up. Being thirteen, this was a strenuous task. After all, my father had a beer belly that weighed the same as the rest of his body put together. So to heave this up each and every stair took a lot out of me. But I managed eventually. I went through to the bathroom, filled a glass with water, brought it back, and splashed it in his face. After a while, the giant awoke.
“Dad! Dad! Get up!” I exclaimed excitably.
As he got to his feet he began shouting slurred speech. He peered around, his eyes narrowed and mouth slightly open, a long drip of drool hanging from the edge of his lip. That’s when I gave a little push. It didn’t have to be hard. The alcohol did the rest. He stumbled a bit, and then teetered on the edge of the top stair for what seemed like an eternity. He clawed at the air, like that coyote from the cartoons, before tumbling backwards. I heard his neck make a satisfying crunch with the edge of a stair before his body clambered down to his usual resting point. I went down and felt his pulse, and once I was satisfied that I had been successful, I went back to bed. I woke up with my alarm clock at the usual time, went out my room, slapped my face in pretend shock, and called the police.
It was that simple.
So i have an 11 month old son and his father and i split up 7 months ago.
His father was a bit abussive towards me and told me he didnt love me and wanted my son and i to move out so we did. The first few months were hard as he just completely backed off and didnt pay much attention to being a father to our son.
He was living at our old place and i was giving him overnights every other weekend or more so whenever he asked.
He than moved into his mothers 3 months ago. His mother is rapoid-cycling bipolar and is an alcoholic. I never felt comfortable staying at her house when my ex and i were together as she tried to kill herself after a drinking binge on my exs 25th birthday when i was 8 months pregnant. I was the only sober one and i was left to deal with eveything. Most recently she left a voivemail completely intoxicated saying what a whore i am and saying that our son gave her herpes.
After that message i was not comfortable allowing our son to stay there over night. I discussed these matters with my lawyer and had our agreement pulled due to my lawyer saying she didnt feel comfortable with it either.
My ex and i were trying to get along and i said i would come to his moms to see if it was comfortable for me to have my son stay there. I still did not feel comfortable but my ex told me i was being a bad mother and not putting our son in my best interest by not allowing him to stay overnight there so i tried it once. my son came back throwing up and it took me 3 days to get him back onto schedule.
My ex and i are fighting again and he is demanding over nights at his mothers every other weekend. I am happy my ex wants to see our son and make an effort to be in his life but i just dont feel comfortable with my son staying over night as his mother tends to drink all night long.
I just wrote him an email stating that he can have our son every single saturday but not overnight and that will make up for the day he is missing on his over night visists. I said that he could have our son over night when he has his own place which is supposed to be in a month.
Am i being unfair by doing this? Am i being a bad mom? Does it seem as thoiugh i am trying ot keep our son from hima nd his mom? Any opinions would be helpful. Its been very hard for me and i just dont know what to do. My family and friends agree that i should not be giving overnights but he makes me feel as though i am doing something terribly wrong:(
Additional info to make things fair from both sides: My ex does pay child support and does on time.
I have often called him a dead beat dad when he does not participate as a father as much as i feel he should.
I feel he makes decisions based on his hatred towards me and not in the best interest of our son.
He has said that he requests that i write up a letter saying he doesnt have to pay child support and he will disappear as he doesnt want to deal with me for 18 years.
We have both exchanged many horrible words in rage of anger.
he has told my family members that he hates me for making the decision to keep our son and i feel that has an affect on how he acts as a father (is that wrong?)
She’s 42, lives with my mom and her son and she also has bi-polar disorder. My mother is fed up because she’s listening to my sister puke her guts up after every binge meal. she’s gone from 128 lbs to 86 lbs in the past year and getting worse. She is in therapy, but she refuses to tell her therapist about this problem, because she doesn’t see it as a problem, she tells my mom, it’s her body and stay out of her business, she’s an adult and all, but she’s also my best friend and every time I mention something about bulimia, she plays stupid and pretends she doesn’t have it. She knows the risks, she knows everything, my mom had brought home pamphlets, talked to her doctor, but the doctor told her to call the crisis hotline. He didn’t do anything. I fear for her life, she’s already had so many physical aliments that have led to surgery these past six months. I’m afraid she’s going to die right in front of us and there’s nothing we can do.
She’s killing herself and doesn’t see it as a problem. I know you can help anyone who doesn’t want it, but is there any advice you can give me on what to say to her?
edit..I know you can’t help anyone who doesn’t want it
I’m seeking some desperately needed advice. I am 21 yrs old, have only been married for about 8 months and am having serious doubts about my marriage. the first 5 months of my marriage was destroyed by my husband’s alcohol problem. he was drunk 4-5 days out of the week, spending a lot of money on alcoholl and not working. it was without a doubt the worst time in my life. when drunk my husband is very verbally abusive and threatening. although he has never phsyically hurt me, the emotional scars are very deep. in january i left him for 5 days and stayed with my mother. i eventually went back as he promised to go to aa and get a job. he went to aa a few times and got a job with me. for 3 months he didn’t drink and we got along very well. at the end of march i began to suspect he was drinking again but not freqently. i first i didnt talk about it because i didn’t want to “realize” it. now he has drank several times recently and gone back to his mean ways. I addressed it wth him this time through email because he wouldn’t talk to me about it at home. he wrote back a very heartfelt letter of apology. i suggested we go to marriage counseling but he won’t talk about that. since this happened he has been drunk a few more times. i’m incredibly tired of this. i have a million goals and dreams and am a very ambitious person. i feel as if his refusal to stop drinking is going to hold me back. yet i do love him and do love the times we have together when he is sober. however i promised myself i would never go back to that lifestyle of living with his drinking and cruelty.
i would greatly appreciate anyone’s input/experience abotu this issue. i should add that having witnessed someone’s alcoholic tendencies for as long as i have, i still do not entirely believe alcoholism is a true disease. if my husband wanted to stop i believe he would make the effort to, not just find a better way to hide it. thanks!
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