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Poor, Poor Pitiful Me...

Old 06-03-2014, 07:37 AM
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High Wire Girl
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Poor, Poor Pitiful Me...

"I'll never be like him," I swore to my eight year old self. "He ruins everything," I thought. I sat at the top of the stairs, reading the TV Guide and willing myself to see his shadow at the front door. It was dark outside, and Gene Dall was late again. He should have been home hours ago. Big Mare stood by the kitchen window, smoking and worrying. "Why can't he just have a few beers and come home?" I asked my sister, like she'd know.

"I'll never drink," Judy would say. "I hate everything about it."
"Not me," I'd reply. "I'm just not gonna act all stupid when I do."

Over and over, I watched booze transform my father from this quiet, preoccupied guy into something unrecognizable. Why is he like this? How could he forget what time it is or how to get home? What can I do to make things better? I wondered why he couldn't hold his liquor, like other men. I barely even knew what that meant, but it made him seem like a weakling. I hated feeling that way about him. I wanted to love my Dad. I knew I was supposed to, but I resented him when he drank. I tried not to consider that he didn't give a **** about any of us, but that's what it looked like. And when she was angry, that's exactly what my mother told us.

My father was never a social guy, and he engaged in conversation only when necessary. Gene Dall was a machine of efficiency. So when he tied a load on, it was difficult to detect at first. Until he got off his stool and hit the wall or fell down a flight of stairs. Every time my father drank, he seemed determined to kill himself, one way or another.

When he was hungover, the situation became even more stressful. With all that worry out of the way, Big Mare turned full-time furious. And very often, her rage made her thirsty. I wished I could side with my mother because I understood how upset she was. But she treated my Dad so cruelly, I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Unfortunately for me, he had no use for sympathy. He wanted to be left alone. I felt lost and ineffectual.

*******

When Judy and I were little girls, our house was Party Central. There was never anything fancy planned, but Big Mare was a gracious hostess and everybody loved her. My aunts and uncles would come over on the weekends and holidays, and they all partied their brains out.

My cousins were so much fun, but man, they were wild. I couldn't believe how exciting life was when they were around. Unfortunately, I was a douche and a tattletale, so the kids would tire of me quickly. I'd come downstairs, crying and climb into somebody's lap who wasn't sitting near an ashtray. I pulled out my crayons and drew pictures of horses and dogs, living together. I'd eat potato chips with onion dip, fetch beers and light matches.

I didn't mind hanging out with the grown-ups. Uncle Mike, Aunt Joan and Big Mare were as thick as thieves. They turned the stereo on and blasted their favorite music really loud - Glen Campbell and Linda Ronstadt. They sang at the top of their lungs and lovingly teased one another. They told stories I'd heard many times before and finished each other's sentences. How wonderful - the conviviality and friendship that seemed to come with sharing a few beers.

I savored those moments when everything felt so intimate and comfortable. I fell in love with drinking right there at Big Mare's kitchen table. I didn't care that this night would end like all the rest, with someone falling, crying or having to be carried to the car. None of those details mattered. I knew I just wanted that feeling.
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Old 06-03-2014, 08:33 AM
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Sounds like my kitchen a few months ago.....
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Old 06-03-2014, 08:53 AM
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You've heard it before on this forum, HighWireGirl, but it bears repeating - you have a beautiful style of writing. Thank you for posting.
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Old 06-03-2014, 09:05 AM
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Great writing!
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Old 06-03-2014, 09:08 AM
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<3
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Old 06-03-2014, 09:17 AM
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Thanks again, friends. For me, it took forever to get to where I ended up. My course was the same since I was a little kid. Now, I have a map and a healthy direction. I'm very grateful.
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Old 06-03-2014, 09:45 AM
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I grew up in the same type of household, it was party central too. My parents had a built in pool and it had a bar and all the other stuff. It was like a country club in a middle class neighborhood. My parents would drink every night with my aunt and uncle who lived next door. And the weekend parties were never ending!! It was just the way life was back in the 60's and 70's. Of course it brushed off on my two sisters my younger brother, and me also. My sisters were older than me and took care of their own demons on their own and are clean and sober, but I had a little brother to look after, and he looked up to me. He's 5 years younger then me, but wanted to do everything I did. I got into doing drugs in the 70's during Junior and high school. Mostly it was pot, but I also did other drugs from that time, never heroin though. I stopped in the early 80's due to a job I wanted, drug testing was a bitch, lol. However, my brother followed in my footstep's and was doing just what I did, but he never stopped. Later in life his marriage ended in divorce, they were both alcoholics and crack/heroin users which ruined everything in their lives. He lost many jobs from alcohol use and has been in rehab many, many times falling back into the same routine of drinking. He's now in a 90 day program, but when he gets out, he has no place to live, no car, no money, no nothing. I had helped him throughout the years, but the lying and going behind my back has stopped me from helping him anymore. All he has now is my elderly mother, who enabled him for years. I blame my parents for all of us kids being addicts, drugs and or alcohol. I'm in recovery myself, day 6, you can read my post with the heading, 15 years of hell!!! In there I didn't mention any of this, but your post HotWireGirl reminded me all over again of my childhood and my addictions. To this day my mother would never admit she was an alcoholic and blamed everything on my father, R.I.P.!!! I wonder how many other people went thru this type of "abuse" when they were young?????

Thank you for sharing,
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Old 06-03-2014, 10:01 AM
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Realizing that my folks didn't know any better and truly believing that simple thought helped me forgive them. I blamed them for years. Every time I poured a drink and took a hit. Ultimately, they almost had nothing to do with my forgiveness. They never admitted any wrongdoing, and that's okay. It has to be, if I'm to stay free of resentment. Thanks for sharing some of your experience. I'll keep your brother in my thoughts that he gets it together. Stay strong and get stronger.
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Old 06-03-2014, 02:44 PM
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Old 06-03-2014, 06:12 PM
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Lord, my home life was pretty much identical growing up. Shudder. I guess a very great many of ours were. I was playing cocktail waiter and mixing bloody Marys and vodka-and-tonics for my parents and their drinking-buddy guests when I was only 7. Insanity, sheer effing Insanity. They all thought it was cute. After being determined not to fall in to that same pattern, sure enough, I fell (jumped?) head-first in to that same pattern. It was only many decades later that I finally found you didn't have to. But it took a lot of painful years to. Thanks for the story, HWG!
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Old 06-04-2014, 06:48 AM
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I know my mom was very conflicted when I got clean. She was grateful, sure but she also didn't want the party to be over. I always brought the fun. But I could never put it down. I understand where she was coming from. My behavior reflected on hers, and she didn't want me rocking the boat or bumming anybody else out.
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