Personal Narrative-Hate Is A Strong Word

He would come home wasted after weeks of not being home; of me wondering where my father had been all those weeks. Staying up late on school nights just wishing for him to come home and tuck me in bed, to tell me he loved me, to ask me how my day was, or just tell me that he was there to stay. As a first grader it is hard to explain to your friends why they can not come to your house to play just knowing that if he is there that he will be drunk yelling at my mom for nothing. It got to the point to where he would come home after a few days and grab a suitcase and leave to go with his new girlfriend for a few days or even weeks. Right before he would leave I would always have hope that he would tell me where he was going or take me with him. I just wanted a father. My mother always told me that he would be back and to have hope; to always trust in her and that she would always be there for me. She was always my rock when I was younger. Until one day she finally told me what a monster the man I called my dad was. He was an abuser, physically and mentally. She told me the truth about the man that I wished was in my life for so long. He never wanted me. I was the youngest out

From 2003 to 2013 I was a daddy's girl. My dad and I did a lot together and were like best friends. Unfortunately, he was a very heavy drinker and that ruined my mom and his marriage. He would come home from work around 4 and automatically start drinking. My dad was not the nicest drunk; he would get very angry. Although he never got physical, he and my mom argued every night. My mom fought for her marriage for nearly 16 years. One night in November

Alcoholism is a demon, a disease, something reached for out of desperation. It helps with a person 's problem by deadening their senses, and increasing his problems at the same time by destroying his character. When you drink, you don 't have to think about all your problems, you can just let the alcohol wash them away from your mind. But it can never take away all your problems—they still remain, just your sense to care for them is gone. Alcoholism has a great chance to pass on to later generations, but sometimes growing up in an alcoholic family will make the children swear off the drink because they have seen what it can turn people into. It turns them into the basic raw human emotion of grief. They are miserable for alcohol is the only thing that can make them feel normal after awhile, their entire bodies ache for it. Even when they have given up drinking, their bodies can revert back after having just one drop again. Yes, alcoholism is truly a terrifying disease of the mind and body—not just to the addict, but also to the loved ones

Before I go deeper into the effects, I need to talk about the cause. My father was an alcoholic.Since the day I was born, the day my brother was born, hell since the day my parents met, my father had an addiction. My mother, being the saint she is, tried to look past that. Before I was born, my father had gotten clean. It seemed like life was perfect. My parents were happy, my brother was happy, everyone was happy. But it seems like that all changed when i came into the picture. My father drank heavily while I was a child. He would come home hammered, have a screaming match with my mother, which even though she won the fight, she never won the battle. I remember when I was in the 3rd grade, my father came home from another night of drinking, which came naturally to me at this point, but something was different this time. I heard the doorbell at 416 AM, and i answered it. The only image I saw was my father with blood covering every single particle of skin it could. My

My father is a good man -- he isn’t a violent drunk, and even though he lived the majority of my childhood in a haze, he always had time to teach me new concepts, and to make me feel special. But even the highest functioning drunks have their limits, and my father has repeatedly tested his.

"If you want to see stupid, look in the mirror". My memory of my dad for the past eighteen years has either been of a seemingly just impatient and mean person or of a person who has a horrible attitude due to his addiction. There are many things that can plague a person's life with hurt, but the one thing that gets me is the fact that I have an alcoholic father. It's been a difficult life with alcohol addiction because my dad's personality began to change for the worse, different parts of my life have been affected negatively, and I never met my grandfather due to his own addiction.

I grew up in a household where both parents were alcoholics and drug abusers that did not pay much attention to my brother and I. They were both in and out of jail and treatment. They were more worried about the next longneck bottle of beer then their helpless and confused children. It was a bad situation for a couple little kids. You may wonder how it felt to be in this my situation. Well at ages three through five years old there is not much I should remember but sadly it left a big enough impact on my life that I can still smell the hard liquor on my mom’s breath, and hear her slurring her words and her breathing heavily. I can still remember how the house always seemed dark and unhappy. Late at night, I would wonder if when I woke up, if my mom would still be there to hug me one last time. Being in a situation where my biological parents always fought and threw anything within reach at each other.

In the United States, twenty million children are experiencing physical, verbal and emotional abuse from parents who are addicted to alcohol. Growing up in an alcoholic house can leave emotional scars that may last a lifetime. This is tragic because we consider that childhood is the foundation on which our entire lives are fabricated. When a child's efforts to bond with an addicted parent are handicapped, the result is confusion and intense anxiety. In order to survive in a home deficient, of healthy parental love, limits, and consistency, they must develop "survival skills" or defense mechanisms very early in life.

     In the United States, twenty million children are experiencing physical, verbal and emotional abuse from parents who are addicted to alcohol. Growing up in an alcoholic house can leave emotional scars that may last a lifetime. This is tragic because we consider that childhood is the foundation on which our entire lives are fabricated. When a child’s efforts to bond with an addicted parent are handicapped, the result is confusion and intense anxiety. In order to survive in a home deficient, of healthy parental love, limits, and consistency, they must develop “survival skills” or defense mechanisms very early in life.

If you had been standing outside of our apartment door at six am thats what you would've heard. Well I mean, If you lived on the same floor as us you would be used to this daily routine of yelling and fighting.

Sitting in the small white room with my mother and sister that night I clasped my hands tightly in my lap and looked down. We were in the basement of a homey yet outdated Lutheran church that hosted an Al-anon group every Tuesday. Chairs were set neatly in a circle and as people started to filter in there were many hugs exchanged. I had come reluctantly to Al-anon not expecting much. I knew my relationship with my step-dad could never be fixed. I felt sad, angry, and quite frankly, I felt bad for myself. Although my mom, dad, and stepdad were all alcoholics, they had all been sober for some twenty years or so. That being said, I still knew alcohol never released its grip on a family. A nice looking older lady came up to my sister and I and

Even thought my family was not the best my father was not any better. The second my father walked out my front door everything changed. I remember waiting outside my front steps hoping my father’s white pickup truck would pull up in the drive way, and calling him day and night hoping he would answer just so I can hear his voice and know that he was okay. But I never got any of that on the contrary he would tell me to stop calling him and to forget about him because he never loved me and that I was a bother to him. At that moment my heart shattered into millions of pieces and I just wished that it was a horrible joke, but it wasn’t. My father is an alcoholic and he doesn’t always think right he does thing that make him very impulsive. Since he is not in the right mind set I would not want to be around him knowing that

Alcoholism took too many lives in my family. No one wakes up one day and decides to be an alcoholic—it takes time like any other thing I guess. It starts with having a beer with buddies and progressively falls into copping with heartache by pouring another glass alone in an empty room. That’s what happened to my Uncle Rhett. At 17, life was nothing but an adventure for him. He was graduating next month and would be off to college by the end of the summer. He would party with friends and crack open another cold one every Friday and Saturday night down on the Island. Life was everything but tragic.

When I was younger my dad used to be an alcoholic and he also cheated on my mom with so many girls. One day I went to sleep over his house and all these girls showed up every time I went over, he would always send me to his room alone and I would sleep in the dark scared thinking something might happen to me. One day when I went over he was drinking and all I remember is I was sitting on the floor and he just started kicking me, and my little self is thinking what did I do wrong. But I always went back not knowing if it’s going to happen again. My dad lived everywhere because he didn’t have that much money to stay settled in one place so he lived on top of “Tony’s Deli” in Pawling NY and the trailer park by beer and soda in Wingdale NY. When