When we are forced to grow up in an alcoholic home especially with two dysfunctional and drunken parents, we are often the care givers as children.
I remember once when my mother forced me as a little child to go into the room where my father had been drunk for two weeks, to beg him to stop drinking. I was also instructed to kiss him and tell him how much I loved him.
I did as I was told as I always toed the line. I remember sitting on the bed begging him to stop drinking and then looking at his white t-shirt covered in snot and trying to find a clean place on his unshaven face to kiss. There wasn’t one. I kissed him anyway. I was six years old at the time.
Once when I was seventeen, my father came and woke me up from a deep sleep. He was naked and told me that he needed my help as he was unable to pee.
As adult children, we don’t think about how ridiculous the request is, we simple do whatever we are told. After all, these are our parents.
So, I walked my father into his bathroom, which was beside the bed where my drunken mother laid passed out. I turned on the warm water and told him to place his right hand in the tepid water. I then instructed him to relax while he attempted to pee. After about fifteen minutes, and trying desperately not to fall asleep, my father urinated.
Quickly, I went back to bed after my dad collapsed beside my drunken mother. I tried to get back to sleep because I had an important exam the following day. However, that night, sleep did not come easy.
It is no wonder as children and young adults, even when things began to seem normal, we would speculate as to what horrible thing might befall us at any given moment. Well, that is because while growing up we didn’t do normal, and we sure didn’t know how to enjoy it, if or when it ever occurred. We were always far too engaged in waiting for the roof to fall in on us or perhaps a plane to land on our heads!