I am an only child. Grew up in middle class household. Never been poor,
but couldn't afford lots of luxuries. My father drunk quite a bit and
spent time with his friends, roaming bars, more than with mum and I. I
really hated my father's drinking. No...
View more
I am an only child. Grew up in middle class household. Never been poor,
but couldn't afford lots of luxuries. My father drunk quite a bit and
spent time with his friends, roaming bars, more than with mum and I. I
really hated my father's drinking. Not only that he never accepted the
fact that he was a drunk, he would come drunk to my school for
parent-teacher interviews and that really made me sad. I was a geeky
girl (straight A student) and whilst I was never bullied or unpopular, I
was not popular either (I was nothing). I asked him numerous times not
to be around me nor talk to me when drunk, he'd promised numerous time
he won't and he'll stop drinking, and...continued as usual. Sometimes
he'd say he would've liked me that I was a boy; he would then stop
drinking and do boy's stuff with me. My mother was pretty much there to
support my dad. Whilst he worked all of his life, 90% of his income was
going to satisfy his needs: drinking, catching up with drinking buddies,
travelling (by himself!), cars,... My mum worked full time, too, and she
paid for roof over our head, bills, food, my needs,... We never traveled
anywhere as a family, other than visiting our extended family and
staying with them. My mother's priority was to maintain peace in the
house. When dad came home drunk, I was sent to my room; when he started
yelling, I was told not to respond or cry and just retreat to my room.
They would then go to their bedroom, have sex, he'd fall asleep and my
mum would come to get me from my bedroom (unless I was asleep which I
often pretended to be, especially as I got older, because all of that
disgusted me). My father subsequently stopped drinking when we found out
I was carrying a boy, literally overnight - I came home from the
hospital, told them I'm carrying a boy, he got up and threw away every
single bottle containing alcohol, including low grade rum we used for
baking. He didn't want his grandson to ever see him drunk and he never
had a single drop of alcohol ever since and would preach to everyone and
anyone... My ex and I met at the age of 17. Got married really (really!)
young. Looking back, I felt I was his 'meal ticket' all these years -
out of 30 years together he probably worked 10 years. I don't know why I
stuck around when all of our arguments usually ended with "if you don't
like it, we can divorce". I really didn't want to divorce. That is not
what real wives and mothers do. I always tried to find the excuse for
his behaviors. I am really boring. I have been working full time from
the age of 17 and cannot remember every being out of work except for
maternity break. I am lucky in my line of work and have always managed
to prioritize my children. I like spending time at home, cooking,
maintaining my home, spending time with family and friends. I used to
like going out, too, but often when we'd go out, he'd have few drinks
and start putting me down...silly things like having a big nose (it's
not, but it's not little feminine nose the way he likes it), being a bit
thick in the head (I'm not, I have mathematics degree, I'm not dumb, we
just may not be on the same wavelength and generally my point of view is
a wrong one), derogatory things about my extended family (my extended
family is colorful but that is not my fault and definitely no reason to
bring up as a topic of conversation). When he's sober, I'd bring it up
and he'd start yelling at me that I'm a cow/idiot/...'insert any
derogatory name' and that I'm too sensitive. I often tried to justify
his behavior because he used to tell me his father was quite physically
abusive when he was a little child, until the age of 15: he got drunk
because he was unhappy - how can I make him happy? (I didn't realize at
the time that no-one can make you happy...happiness is individual and
internal) he smashed the house (tore of the ceiling in the dining
room)/furniture/dishes - we better be quiet when he comes home I said
'no' and he continued on, calling me frigid 'derogatory name' after I
couldn't stop crying woke me up by abusing me because he had a dream
that I cheated on him harming our 7 y/o because he was sleeping next to
me because of nightmares refusing to pick up our sick 13 y/o old after
she missed her school bus because he was playing cards across the town
(not working at the time) and when she started crying, told her to call
the bus company and complain so they can organize transport for her
whenever I cook something, he'd compare it to his
mother's/grandmother's/aunt's/... cooking or he would 'hoover' in the
kitchen to tell me how to do stuff - I'm no Nigela by any stretch of
imagination but I quite like cooking and prepare healthy and hearty
meals that people (and most importantly my children!) really like to eat
he hated when my parents came over and perhaps offer an advice (as all
parents do) - admittedly my father was not the easiest person to live
with he didn't like my friends because they were gay/fat/poor/...and any
time spent with them was a waste and not something a respectful wife and
mother should do ................ Number of people in our community
(friends/acquaintances/people we see in church...) commented how they
would really like to form friendship with our family but they found him
hard to deal with. Subsequently he stopped drinking but started behaving
'holier than thou' when offered a drink... We divorced 15 years ago but
he remained living in my house with our kids because he didn't have a
place to go, our child got seriously ill, etc. I supported him and his
hobbies...hunting, fishing, boating,...but grew unhappy with every
passing day, to the point of crying and having borderline panic attacks
on my way home from work. He then decided he didn't want to be in the
same bed with me. He moved into the spare room. He spent every waking
moments on his hobbies or computer games, usually sitting around in his
underwear (when in the house). We grew more and more apart. Or perhaps -
I grew more and more resentful of everything: my life, my letting him
get away with shit that I shouldn't have,.........Whilst we grew apart
as a couple, we remained civil and didn't argue with each other. I tried
to talk to him number of times to at least help me with house chores and
cooking because he is in the house all day every day. He usually
refused, saying that he won't pick up after MY children (they are OUR
children) and even if he made/order food, he'd do it for himself only. I
had enough and asked him to leave. He did. He inherited a house 1 months
ago on the other side of the state so he moved there. He only receives
small income (enough for basic lifestyle) so he wanted me to help him
with some bills. I have. He wanted me to visit. I have. He wanted me to
help him with the move. I have. He introduced me to his neighbors as his
"Mrs" and is trying to persuade me to sell my house and move in with
him. I don't want to and feel guilty for refusing him. I can see myself
living in that beautiful little town. But not with him. When I think
about, potentially, going to bed with him, I have a knot in my stomach.
We do not argue. We talk as friends. I have an old house, it needs
either major renovation or knock-down rebuild. I don't have money for
that. I can sell it and downsize. I still work full time. However, I
hate my life. I hate the fact that I wasted it. I hate the fact that ALL
my life I try to please people around me, support them (financially and
emotionally) and I am now empty and have no-one to support me
(emotionally). My parents passed away. One of my children passed away. I
am finally alone, at a dusk of my life and I have no will to continue. I
would like to go dancing/travelling/skiing/...I have no
energy/will/motivation to do anything. I like people watching. I like
watching couples, exchanging glances at each other, holding hands, ....
I feel I have so much to give, but no-one wants it. No-one wants me. I
am no-one. I am seriously struggling to find a single reason (other than
my children) to remain alive. I don't want to do it (commit suicide) but
I really am tired of being no-one to anyone.
PTSD for Medical and First Responders
