So, as I was trolling social media tonight I came across and interesting article. If you have time, and it interests you, please take a look at it.
I grew up with alcoholic step fathers. Several. None were nice or fun. I am not even sure where to start expressing my thoughts on this subject, my mind is racing with memories. I never knew the adults in my life were alcoholics, that’s how normal alcohol was for me. I was maybe 7 when I tasted Wild Turkey for the first time.
That is what Fred drank.
Fred was step father number two. He was the party guy. He was a World War II vet. He drank and smoked constantly. There were constant parties at our house where I was not allowed to come downstairs. I would lay on the step, about halfway down the stairs where the wall was so they couldn’t see me. The house was filled with stylish women that had pretty hair and 70’s clothes. The men were semi plane, brand inspectors and cowboys that worked for the state. The room was filled with cigarette smoke and drinks were everywhere. I would fall asleep there until my Mom would get me into bed some time in the night. During the few years they were together, he died in our house of a heart attack, it was a constant party. He drove drunk and would let my Mom walk home from across town in the middle of the night, alone. Piece of shit, but she stayed. So, needless to say I was left alone with him and he was sexually abusive….yep….maybe 7. When I was still married if I smelled hard alcohol on my husbands breath I was repulsed. Sad, but true. He never understood, only when we were in therapy did he apologize and I would like to believe he genuinely felt bad. I am not sure, because after that all drinking was done on the side.
Step father number one use to hit me…he was mean alcoholic.
Step father number three was the most mentally abusive. She married him twice. I used to be angry at her for the choices she made, but she was damaged too. Number three was Arnold. They divorced on my 16th birthday and again on my 18th. Both of those birthdays I spent in the courtroom. When I was 12 he convinced her I ran away. I have to wonder about her mental state, I was at my best friends house and she knew it. I came home to a police man asking me if I knew where our address was. I said that was my house and he followed me home. Arnold, when I was 12, called me “a whore walking the street looking for a stiff dick”. I was FUCKING 12!!! I didn’t even know about sex! Of course when the policeman realized he was drunk he left me with my Mom and Arnold. My Mom had the nerve to say many years later that I was not an easy child, are you fucking kidding me? I went to school and stayed in my room, or was at my friend’s house. I had to be out of sight because everything was ok then. You see these men and my Mom were older. They had already raised children and here comes a little girl.
(I have to add that as I am emptying my thoughts here Fred’s daughter-in-law liked my comment on that post…she has no idea. Not that I know of…)
I think this has been a little overwhelming for me this evening….I will follow-up with a second part when I can….Yes, I have moved on, healed, learned the lessons they delivered…just felt the need to empty my thoughts after reading that article….
Our children look to us for guidance and example. I have explained to my girl that addiction runs on both sides and she needs to be very aware….
I am calling it a night….Peace for now ❤
Something Resembling Life 