Personal Narrative: My Father's Alcohol Abuse

Knowing some of my family and their hardships because of reputation I have been able to observe reputation’s inaccuracy first hand. For my entire childhood, I grew up with an alcoholic father. He never once laid a hand on me. That was something that he had promised me, he will never hit me, for as long as I live. He said if I ever made it to the point where I needed to be hit, then that was his fault. There are stories about him tangled up in fights when he was much younger, yet that is as far as his violent tendencies had come,as far as I am aware. One day my Mom had apprehensively explained to me that I would not be seeing my dad that week, an incident had occurred between him and his wife, now ex wife, my father had been taken to jail.

It was my senior year in high school when my mom told me that my cousin, Mayra, had given birth to a baby girl. However, child protective services decided that Mayra wasn’t adequate to take care of the child; due to her drug abuse. Child protective services from Mexico were trying to place the baby with close relatives. Sadly, there was only three choices, her grandma, my aunt Gloria, and myself. The choices were few and the family small.

The psychological effects of one’s childhood experiences can have a huge toll on the person we blossom into in life and that was the divorce of my two parents at the age of six. Growing up with an alcoholic father has had an outstanding impact on my self-worth. I could never see myself opening up to others; I could never be my true self in front of anyone except for a few people that have supported me through it all. I’ve always wondered over the period of my life that there was a reason for my father’s actions and why my father wasn’t there through the most important events throughout my sister and I’s lives.

My relationship with drugs first began during my senior year of high school. While most of my peers attended their first parties years earlier, my first was not until I was already 17 years old. I still remember feeling so cool for attending my first party and having my first sip of alcohol. The feeling of being drunk was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I felt liberated, like I could break out of my quiet shell and be that fun, goofy person that everyone wanted to hang out with. Prior to this night I had never used any type of substance, legal or illegal. Since then I have continued using alcohol while also trying various different types of drugs including caffeine, marijuana, tobacco, and adderall.

When I arrived to the United States I faced a challenging situation in my life, I didn’t know English. This challenging as I didn’t know how to communicate with any of my teachers or classmates, and I wasn’t able to do any of my work. Not being able to participate in class upsetted me because in Mexico I was use to doing all my classwork and homework. Therefore, I decided that I was going to do everything in my power to learn English quickly. So, when the my ESL teacher announced to my parents that they were going to have to take to school during the summer, I didn’t mind at all. When I was in summer school I learned a lot of English due to my determination and my hard work. Looking back I wouldn’t do things differently because I know that

Challenges that still face are the relapse his father with alcoholic abuse, it would be 2-4 years sober because he would swear to the Virgin Mary. Once his dad does the years he swears in church he binges drinks until he becomes abusive and then swears in church again. The economic status his family lives in, living in poverty, lack of resources for not only him but younger sister as well. Issues John remains to have are anger management, lack of social skills, and support system. Due to John not telling anyone about the abuse at home and learning that it is okay to express his feelings and to talk to another adult for help, lead him to have difficulty expressing his emotions.

As I pulled up and parked I checked in with myself to see how I was feeling. I was extremely nervous that I would stand out like a sore thumb. I have never been to a meeting before and I didn’t know if everyone had to speak or if there would be some sort of role call where everyone would need to introduce themselves and state they were an alcoholic and how long they had been sober. I was quite concerned that I would make some sort of social faux pas since I didn’t know the rules.

Luis states that the first time he tried alcohol was when he was 21-years-old. “I worked in the fields as a teenager and my brothers would ask me to go have a drink and I would tell them no. When I turned 21-years-old, my friend took me out and had one drink. I did not try and have another drink for almost one year.” Luis reports that at his heaviest use, from ages 22-years-old to 27-years-old, he was drinking 3 to 4 drinks on Friday and Saturday nights with 2 ounces of tequila over a three to four-hour period. “After I received my first Driving Under the Influence in January/February 2014, I stopped drinking and did not drink again until the day I received my second Driving Under the Influence charge. My sister-in-law had just arrived from

On November 16, I received the notice from U.S Equal Employment Opportunity Commission District Office, Phoenix.

Due to my father’s alcoholism, boundaries would sometimes get rigid. When my father drank, he would isolate himself from the rest of family; sometimes as long as a month. He was a functioning alcoholic, so he would go to work, but then come home, go to his room and drink. When he would sober up, he would realize the effects of his absence and the loss of respect and influence within the family. He would then try to make up for lost time by becoming a tyrant. When this happened, we, as kids were aware that what he said was law and there was no room for questions, debate, or negotiation. Even my mother was afraid of him. If the trashcans were not brought in by one of my brothers, my father would start yelling. If someone was taking a shower and he thought s/he was using up too much water, he would start yelling. When one of my brothers didn’t have a job, he would yell at him and call him a worthless loser. The yelling was epic; audible to the neighbors. If we didn’t do this and if we didn’t do that, he would threaten to shut off our cell phones, shut off the Internet, and stop payments on car insurance. He even yelled at us in front of our friends, which caused us to stop inviting anyone over, which is typical: “Children, for example, no longer invite their friends to their homes (Ackerman, 1987, p. 272.”

At the age of ten, my mother told me she was leaving my father. I was not sad; in fact, the news was a relief. My sister, my mother, and I faced the aggressive side effects of my father's drug and alcohol addiction. I grew up with my dad treating my family like nothing, as if he was in constant control of us and we did not matter. At the time, I did not comprehend the divorce was because of my dad's drug and alcohol addiction. I assumed when he passed out on the couch and would not wake up it was funny. The irrational mood swings were because he was overworked. My life, my view of the world, shifted when I pieced together what addiction

I too wrote about getting Ben enrolled into vocational school because having a job would be the best for his life. I like how you added on the idea of it creating responsibility and accountability. However I would like to ask why you didn't decide to put Ben through some sort of treatment or preventative program involving alcohol. While yes he may not have a trouble with alcohol, his crime is heavily involved with it and he very well could re-offend doing a similar crime. I feel that by him using his story to talk to people going through alcohol treatment he can make a big difference on their lives and might help prevent the crime with those individuals. As discussed by rehabs.com (2016), a strong peer support is crucial for the

Several drinks later the frustrations that had been coursing throughout my veins had ceased and were replaced with a sense of tranquility. The dispute between Audrina and me had been forcefully driven to the back of my conscience mind. I could vaguely hear the low hums from the granite countertop, but I was trying with every ounce of strength to remove the agitation from my ears. Audrina was fuming at the ears; she was in no mood to talk kindly to or about me at this point. I had never fully grasped her concept or hatred towards my drinking; I just knew she incandescently angered by it. Any chance she got the chance she would ramble with no end about the ‘negative repercussions’ that I would have to face. She would always go on about how my addiction had no benefactors for my body or my mind. She would always have this small crease that

We all know the typical meaning of Monday; a new week starting, going back to school or to work, dealing with stress, following a schedule. I go through all these steps every week; however, the day-after Sunday has meant much more to me than a simple week starting again.

My best friend was doing bad things with her life. She was drinking with her friends and smoking weed and going to parties and doing things a 13 year old should not do. The girl she drove home with was funneling a beer while driving. She didn’t need to be in there. I did not know what to do. If I told she would hate me, but if I did not tell then she would not be here right now. We’ve been best friends since 3rd grade. I didn’t want to risk losing her. But I know if I didn’t tell then i’d lose her forever. I’m glad I told my mom because she is not doing that stuff anymore.