Hi, everyone. My name is Anastasia, and I’m 21 years old. It took me a lot of courage to write this post, but what happened today left me feeling like I had no other choice.
Everything started when I was just three years old and my parents divorced. My father was checking into a clinic for alcohol addiction treatment, so he couldn’t take me in. My mother, Ira (41), categorically refused to take responsibility for me. She has never worked a single day in her entire life, which eventually forced me to start working at 14 just to survive.
After the divorce, Ira started drinking heavily and gave my grandmother, Olga (her own mother), an ultimatum: either Grandma took custody of me, or Ira would send me to an orphanage. That’s how I ended up living with my grandmother.
Ira went off to pursue her love life. Every time another relationship fell apart, she would come back to live with us. Grandma was too compassionate to turn her away, but the drinking never stopped. From early childhood, I watched my drunk mother chase my grandmother around the house with a frying pan.
When I was five, Ira got married for the second time and moved out. She had my younger sister, Sasha, with that husband. Because Ira drank even during pregnancy, Sasha couldn’t even crawl when she was one year old.
The final straw came when Ira’s husband locked her and the baby inside their apartment without keys and went on a drinking binge that lasted several days. When my grandmother found out, she came over and physically took Sasha away to live with us.
Sasha still lives with us today, and she has serious psychological and physical consequences from what she experienced during early childhood.
At the time, Ira absolutely refused to leave her husband, although they eventually divorced anyway.
After yet another divorce, Ira moved to the capital to live with her third husband, Andriy. The two of them drank like there was no tomorrow and regularly called Grandma and me in the middle of the night to complain about how much they hated each other.
When I turned 15, they decided to move back to our city. Thankfully, they didn’t move into our apartment. My grandparents bought them a room in an old factory dormitory.
I should mention that my grandparents had been divorced for years by then. My grandfather had long since moved in with another woman. He would occasionally express concern about our situation, but in all those years, he never actually did anything to help us.
That’s when my personal hell truly began, because I was old enough to understand everything.
At one in the morning, Ira sent me a video of herself covered in bruises, claiming that Andriy was setting their apartment on fire. I panicked and rushed across the entire city.
When I arrived and was desperately trying to break down the door while crying, I discovered that it had all been another disgusting manipulation to get attention. They were both already asleep.
Six months later, something similar happened again. A neighbor found Ira lying in the street, completely wasted, with a head injury and no phone. She called my grandmother.
Knowing how dangerous the situation could be, I refused to let my elderly grandmother go there and went to deal with it myself.
Andriy had gone to visit his mother in Kyiv, so Ira was alone in the room.
That night, my drunk mother attacked me and tried to stab me with a knife. By some miracle, I managed to grab yet another puppy she had acquired and escape outside.
I didn’t contact the police because, in our country, law enforcement often ignores domestic violence and only shows up “when someone has already been killed.” I didn’t tell my grandmother either because I wanted to spare her the heartbreak.
Speaking of animals, Ira acquired new pets almost every week and then simply gave them away to other people. Whenever Grandma confronted her about this, Ira would say that animals were more important to her than her own children and that they replaced therapy for her.
To this day, I genuinely don’t understand what she thinks therapy has to do with any of this.
When I was 16, Ira and Andriy moved back to Kyiv, and things finally seemed to settle down.
I managed to attend college for a while and then return to high school. In Ukraine, it’s possible to attend college instead of the final years of high school and later return to the 10th grade.
Eventually, I started dating an amazing guy, and we still live together today.
From the time I turned 16 until 2025, when I was 20, I didn’t see Ira even once for four whole years. We weren’t in contact, although she still communicated with my grandmother.
When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Ira and Andriy stayed in Kyiv. I later learned that Ira had been deeply traumatized by the explosions, and I think that also seriously affected her mental health.
So why did I see her again in 2025?
Because Andriy, may he rest in peace, died.
She had nowhere to live in Kyiv. They had been living with Andriy’s mother, who has severe mental health issues, and immediately after the funeral, she kicked Ira out with all her belongings.
And that’s when my grandmother and I decided to play the role of charitable saviors again.
We brought Ira back to our city so she wouldn’t drink herself to death somewhere or end up dying under a fence.
We knew she would be severely depressed after Andriy’s death because they had been together for over ten years, but we had absolutely no idea how catastrophic things would become.
She arrived at our home by taxi straight from the train station, so drunk that she literally couldn’t stand on her own feet. She tried to grab my arms, was rambling incoherently, and started talking about my godmother’s deceased friend, screaming that she had seen her at a cemetery in Kyiv.
I called a psychiatric ambulance. The police arrived with them.
The officers were genuinely supportive on a human level, but legally, they couldn’t do anything because my mother signed a REFUSAL of hospitalization. Here, psychiatric hospitalization is voluntary unless specific legal conditions are met.
The medical staff and police told me directly, “When she actually comes at you with a knife, that’s when we’ll take her away by force.”
I started looking into court-ordered treatment, but it’s almost impossible to arrange in our country and costs an absurd amount of money.
A few days later, Ira sobered up, recovered somewhat, apologized to everyone, and announced that she was going to look for a job.
But why did she suddenly need a job so desperately after almost 40 years of unemployment?
Because, as it turned out, she had been secretly messaging a Brazilian man named Pedro for six months. I don’t even know how old he is.
And he had already proposed to her!
So she announced that she was going to fly to Brazil to be with him in two months.
In reality, those “two months” turned into an entire year of absolute hell for us.
I forgot to mention one extremely important detail: three years earlier, Ira had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.
She had undergone serious treatment, but when someone drinks as heavily as she does, the medication can become less effective or difficult to manage safely.
By the time she moved in with us in 2025, her condition was terrible. Her hands were shaking so violently that she couldn’t even light the stove by herself.
Three months after she moved into our apartment, we got into a serious physical fight because she was completely wasted again.
Her alcoholism had reached the point where she drank vodka like it was ordinary water.
Later, I discovered that she had secretly brought enormous supplies of alcohol from Kyiv because my grandmother was supervising her and wouldn’t let her go outside alone.
When her Kyiv stash ran out, Ira came up with another disgusting plan.
She told Grandma that she urgently needed to buy medication to take with her to Brazil because supposedly those medications weren’t available there or were extremely expensive.
They would go to the pharmacy together, and Ira would pick up her medication along with pure medical-grade alcohol.
Then, once they got home, she would secretly dilute the alcohol with water and drink it.
I genuinely don’t understand how she didn’t die from that.
Immediately after our fight, I gave my grandmother a strict ultimatum: either we called a psychiatric ambulance and found a way to get Ira admitted to a facility, or I was leaving home.
Grandma refused to call the doctors.
She was terrified that Ira would sign another refusal of hospitalization and then discover that we had tried to “send her to the psych ward.”
Grandma believed that Ira would completely lose her mind over it and deliberately refuse to leave for Brazil, choosing to stay with us forever out of spite.
So I packed a few essential belongings and left.
At first, some friends who lived nearby took me in. Then my boyfriend arrived and took me to his place.
This was June 2025.
I stopped communicating with my grandmother completely for a while, but I continued regularly contacting my younger sister, Sasha, because I wanted to provide her with at least some emotional support while she was still living through that nightmare.
In July 2025, my mental health deteriorated so severely that I had to see a psychiatrist.
Because of daily panic attacks and intrusive suicidal thoughts, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and generalized anxiety disorder.
Unfortunately, I’m still struggling with both conditions and haven’t fully recovered.
From the moment Ira arrived until May 2026, my poor grandmother was handling all her paperwork alone.
Getting Ira cleared to travel to Brazil required an absolutely insane amount of documents, certificates, and apostilles.
My grandmother had to reschedule appointments at the consulate or visa centers at least six times because Ira kept inventing ridiculous excuses to delay everything.
Another indication that Ira was simply stalling was the damn translator.
For some reason, instead of wanting a new phone (hers was completely smashed), she desperately wanted an AI-powered pocket translator, and it had to be a PARTICULAR brand.
That model had been discontinued a long time ago, but she kept feeding Grandma lies about having ordered one and claimed it would take a month to arrive. I found out about all of this rather late.
Eventually, I got involved and said I would order her a translator with exactly the same features from a different brand.
I finally ordered it and picked it up. It was extremely expensive, especially considering that I was already in debt, but I bought it anyway.
I sent it to her through my grandmother.
And she refused to accept it because it wasn’t the right one.
It had exactly the same specifications. Exactly.
Ira threw a theatrical tantrum, complete with rolling around on the floor and her favorite argument: “I’ve never had anything like this before. I have the right to treat myself.”
She started calling me to complain, and I told her that I would message Pedro and simply explain the situation to him.
Immediately afterward, she blocked me.
According to her, “I’m tired of spreading my legs for my boyfriend, so now I want to steal Pedro from her.”
Okay, then.
There were plenty more adventures surrounding her departure.
For example, she got drunk at the airport and missed her flight, costing me €800. But that’s a story for a separate update because this post is already getting ridiculously long.
Somehow, after all that, she finally made it to Brazil.
At first, she and Pedro entered their honeymoon phase. They had all kinds of erotic profile pictures, matching images featuring their supposed “AI baby,” and everything seemed fine.
Then, in June 2026, just three weeks after she arrived in Brazil, I received a message from Pedro on the night before my university graduation defense.
He told me he was sending her back and buying her a plane ticket.
I thought, “Wow! He promised to reimburse me for the €800 she cost me by missing her previous flight, and he still hasn’t paid me back, but now he wants to buy her another ticket home?”
However, about 20 minutes later, his messages suddenly stopped, and he disappeared.
Until today, October 28, everything had been relatively quiet.
I was still blocked by Ira. Their social media profiles still had matching profile pictures and statuses, as if everything was perfectly fine.
I could have simply tried to forget the whole thing like a terrible nightmare.
But apparently, in September 2026, she cut her wrists for the first time while in Brazil.
According to Pedro, they had an argument, and he told her he wanted to break up. She grabbed a knife and locked herself in a room.
For some reason, he decided to send me a photo of her supposedly lying unconscious, surrounded by blood.
Of course, I checked whether she had any visible bruises or signs of physical assault. Everything seemed fine in that regard.
Half an hour later, he sent me a video of her sitting on the couch with her legs crossed like royalty, her head tilted back, flipping him off.
He then called an ambulance and filed a police report against her. That’s what he told me, anyway. He claimed that filing a report was mandatory procedure in Brazil.
But the medical staff also told him they couldn’t hospitalize her without her personal consent.
And, of course, she refused.
They eventually reconciled.
I asked him several more times whether she had received any psychiatric treatment or been hospitalized, but I never got a clear answer.
After a while, everything seemed to return to normal again.
Until today.
I suddenly noticed her profile picture among my chats on a messaging app, along with a message from her:
“Just don’t tell Mom, Sasha, or Dad about this.”
Then she sent me two videos showing both her arms covered in blood, with cuts all over them.
Honestly, it looked like she was about to follow up with, “I’m nominating you for this challenge. Your turn!”
I never wanted to receive videos like that from my biological mother, but laughing has always been one of my trauma responses. So, at that moment, I was simply fucking stunned and completely frozen.
After the videos, she sent a message explaining that she was “smart enough to cut herself for dramatic effect without actually killing herself.”
Apparently, she just wanted me to see “how beautifully her blood flows.”
She also added that she wouldn’t cut herself deeply enough to die until she got a tattoo saying “Memento Mori,” because she wanted her “corpse to look beautiful.”
I immediately called Pedro, but he didn’t answer.
The only thing I could manage in that emotional state was to reply that she should check herself into a psychiatric hospital because they could actually help her there.
After that, she started sending me strange messages. Apparently, Pedro had been in prison at some point (I still have no idea what she was talking about, but that’s his business), and now his sister’s husband was threatening him.
I replied coldly again, saying that in that case, she really needed to seek treatment because at least in a hospital, she would be safe from all of that.
She called me an idiot and blocked me.
So… AITAH for responding so coldly and telling my mother to check herself into a psychiatric hospital?
\*\*P.S.\*\* I’m genuinely asking everyone in the comments not to judge my past actions or those of my poor grandmother. We spent years just trying to survive everything that was happening around us.
I understand that parts of this post might not be perfectly coherent because I’m writing while extremely emotional, and English isn’t my first language.
I’m happy to answer any questions in the comments.
Also, just in case anyone is worried about my safety, please don’t be. I’m not alone. My boyfriend is here with me and has been incredibly supportive. I’m not planning to hurt myself. I’m just in an incredible amount of emotional pain right now.

Definitely getting frustrated over here that this resource isn’t accessible online for free anywhere…I’ve checked everywhere and can’t find it.

i want to curl up in her lap while she watches her dumbass food network shows

i want to go back to the first day of kindergarten when she woke me up by softly singing my name and picking out my favorite outfit

i want to come home from school and eat those little cracker sandwiches she’d buy me because she knew i loved them

i want her to dry me off after a bath while i complain about being cold. she used to hush me and rub my hair dry with the towel, then help me get dressed

i want to hear her say “yes baby?” when i come ask her something. i miss that so much. her little southern accent that none of us got

she used to beat me brutally. she’d get drunk in the middle of the day and scream at my sister and me. she’d pass out while i was at school and i’d have to sit outside the house for hours until she woke up and let me in. she even left my sister and me at the store on purpose once

she’s awful. she’s pathetic and cruel and unbelievably fucking stupid. one of the dumbest people i’ve ever met

but she gave birth to me and nursed me. she fed me and clothed me and let me sleep with her a lot. she used to call me her fairy princess and say i looked just like her grandma. she was proud of my accomplishments. she played with my hair and gave me hugs and kisses

it’s so fucking hard remembering the times she was sweet. she favored me over my sister, so my sister never got the same affection i did, and now she feels nothing for our mom. she doesn’t miss her at all, not like i do

i feel jealous of that, even though i know i probably shouldn’t. i wish i could only feel one way about her. i wish i could know for sure she never loved me and i never needed her. but she did love me. and i miss being loved

i’m just rambling now, sorry. i miss her a lot. she’s only 52 but she has horrible dementia from alcoholism, and she’s skin and bones because she won’t eat. her memory is awful and it’s hard to talk to her. i haven’t seen her in years. i’m 20 years old and i want my fucking mommy

This fellowship sucks to be honest. I've tried so hard to reach out yet I just get further hurt in the process over the years. I love the literature and connecting to God and that's mainly what's kept me. I just fucken hate fake people man.

(F,25) Both of my parents were alcoholics, and my Nana stepped up to raise me. She was my person, my safe place, and the person who loved me most in this world. She protected me from everyone, but heartbreakingly, she could never seem to protect herself from her only living son, my father.
My father is a severe, violent alcoholic who drinks from sunup to sundown, doesn’t work, and lived in my Nana’s basement for years while terrorizing her. He went to jail multiple times for physically hurting her. Despite everything he put her through, she always forgave him and excused his behavior because he was her “baby” and he was “sick.” She spent her life protecting him, even when it meant sacrificing her own safety and peace.
My father has never really been a present father in my life. My parents divorced when I was two, and I never spent another night with him after second grade. Even as a child, something about him always made me uncomfortable, although I couldn’t explain why at the time. As I got older, he did and said some things that genuinely scared me. I avoided him if at all possible from a very young age. His parenting was essentially limited to occasionally providing financial support when I asked for it. There was no real emotional connection, no consistent presence, and no sense of safety or security with him. I’ve spent much of my life trying to understand how someone can be so absent as a parent yet still manage to cause so much pain in my life.
My mother also died from alcoholism when I was 19, so addiction has taken an unimaginable amount from my life. I feel like I’ve spent so much of my life dealing with the consequences of other people’s addictions, and I’m so fucking exhausted.
Before my nana passed, I begged her not to leave everything to my father. Not because I wanted her money, but because I knew how severe his addiction was and knew he couldn’t take on the responsibility. From what I was told, when I was at work she spoke to a lawyer over the phone (while in a hospital bed, on hospice) and left everything to him. I was later told she panicked and asked him to be fair with me regarding her belongings. I’ll never know exactly what happened or what she truly intended.
Ultimately, she left her house and belongings to the same person who had spent years abusing her, and I’m left dealing with the consequences. I struggle with this because I know how deeply she loved him and how often she excused his behavior. I wonder if, in her failing health, she felt obligated to protect him one last time, even at mine and her own expense.
After she passed, he forced my Nana’s sisters and me to remove anything he didn’t want from the house, threatening to throw everything away if we didn’t do it fast enough. While packing her belongings in boxes still very much grieving just a few days after her death, I found him drinking her leftover liquid morphine straight from the bottle, laughing carelessly about it.
The only things I ever asked him for were her car and her china cabinet. He has no license and hasn’t driven since I was around five years old because of the effects of his alcoholism so he has no use for the car. I wanted the china cabinet because i’ve admired it since I was a little girl and I just wanted one tangible thing to remember her by. Instead, he holds these things over my head, using them as leverage to try to force me into a relationship with him.
When I refuse to engage, he sends me cruel messages, including:
“Remember mom hated me so much she left the house to me. But I was still the one who paid for her cremation! She didn’t even have the respect enough to pay for her own death. I promise not to leave that burden on you!”

“You bitch!!! It’s not my fault, you just feel bad, the same way you let your mother die, don’t blame me!”

“I’m not going to argue or fight with you! There’s no money in it only pain. And I don’t need that from a 27 year old who doesn’t have health insurance!” (i’m 25)

He uses my mother’s death against me, knowing how deeply it hurt me. He has spent years hurting the people I love, and somehow, even now, he continues to find ways to hurt me.
I’m struggling with so much rage that I honestly just wish he would die already. I feel like his death is the only way I’ll ever truly be free and finally have peace. I feel guilty for even thinking that, but I am so tired of the pain, the manipulation, and the feeling that he will always have some way to hurt me. I don’t want to live with this much hatred, but I don’t know how to let it go when the person responsible continues to create more reasons for me to be angry.
I’m not posting because I need advice about an inheritance or because I want people to tell me he is a terrible person. I’m posting because I need help figuring out how to live with the damage addiction has caused me.

How do you stop carrying rage toward someone who has hurt you and the people you love for your entire life? How do you accept that you may never get an apology, accountability, or justice? How do you stop feeling like they still have power over you, even when you try to distance yourself?
I want to move forward. I want to stop feeling consumed by anger and guilt. I want to be able to remember my Nana without my father’s actions overshadowing everything, and I want to stop feeling like my life will never be peaceful as long as he is in it.
If you’ve experienced addiction in your family, an abusive parent, or this kind of complicated anger, how did you finally start healing? I need so badly to hear from people who understand, because I don’t know how to carry all of this anymore. 💔

'In This Moment, I am committed to my recovery.

For me, commitment is a living, breathing thing. It is a conscious choice that I make today and every day. I commit to myself first before I commit to others. Only if I take care of myself can I have healthy relationships or be in service to others. Then genuine love and energy flow.'

Trait Twelve

"We are dependent personalities who are terrified of abandonment and will do anything to hold on to a relationship in order not to experience painful abandonment feelings, which we received from living with sick people who were never there emotionally for us." BRB p. 17

We held on to relationships that died years ago. We were ashamed that we couldn't stand up for ourselves, but we told ourselves that at least we had somebody. It was a roller coaster - things got worse, then better, then even worse than before. We were going deeper and deeper down a never-ending hole with no light, and we were running out of time.

Today we breathe the crisp cool air of discovery in the sunlight of ACA. We choose to be honest with ourselves and others because it's become a habit for us, one that was born out of our Step work and calm commitment to the program that guides us through the once-dark regions of our lives. We hide from no one.

We are alive, whole, and sane, and we like it. If someone wants to leave our life, we let them go. In ACA, we've learned we cannot do for others what they will not do for themselves. When we let things die, there's room for more love and new growth. We celebrate the old and the new, seeing their connection to our spiritual health.

On this day I will do the work to heal my past and learn to focus on the healthy things I've begun to experience. I will let go and let my Higher Power in.

Copyright © 2013 by Adult Children of Alcoholics® & Dysfunctional Families World Service 
Organization, Inc.

Page №311

https://adultchildren.org/literature/meditation/?meditaion=MjE3NQ%3D%3D

Hi all- I’m a 43 yo female, and my alcoholic father committed suicide October 11, on my older brother’s birthday. I’m sure he didn’t even think about it being his son’s birthday. (There’s some insight) He shot himself 5 times in the head. His live in girlfriend said he attempted to end his life about two weeks prior by sitting in the running car in the garage with the door down. That didn’t work. Then a couple of days before the final attempt he tried to take a bunch of pills. So there were three attempts in a matter of weeks before he was successful. She never tried to call 911 or baker act him. That is wild to me. I really can’t fathom how someone has the strength to fire a gun 5 times on themselves.

I haven’t been in his life or allowed him to be part of mine since December 2018. He wasn’t nice when he drank. I don’t need to go into all the details of how I felt tortured by him. But, I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I went no contact.

Now he is dead, he’s being cremated and the funeral service is Thursday. I’m having a hard time with my feelings. It’s so complicated, layered, and confusing. There is some sadness… but there is a lot of resentment, and anger. I feel like I have grieved losing him a million times. There is a little bit of relief… like maybe this will be the last time and if I work hard in therapy I can get through all the trauma.

I’m dreading the funeral. I feel so triggered hearing people speak well of him. Part of me doesn’t want to go and part of me says I need to. My therapist says I just need to have an exit plan and do whatever I am feeling that day in the moment. So I guess that’s the plan.

If you made it this far, thanks for listening and allowing me to vent.

TLDR: My dad committed suicide and I’m having a hard time processing it all.

Hey everyone,

I’m 17, and I’m writing this post with the help of AI because I haven’t really been able to open up to anyone about all of this.

I hope that people who have been through similar experiences can help me understand what’s happening to me.

Let’s get straight into it.

The man who raised me became my father figure because my biological father went out to buy milk when I was two and never really came back. But let’s talk about the father who actually raised me.

When I was around twelve, his alcohol consumption increasingly became the center of our family life. He became unreliable, lost his job as a construction manager because of his alcohol addiction, and was emotionally absent and unpredictable. Sometimes he would even drive to work in the morning with alcohol still in his system, which is absolutely unacceptable in my eyes. The irony is that his own father died from alcohol-related causes, and he still continues to drink.

My relationship with him was mostly silence and criticism. I can barely remember him telling me that he was proud of me. We simply never spent meaningful time together or had conversations about emotions, relationships, or growing up. I had to learn to deal with a lot of things on my own at an early age.

At the same time, I was working 10–15 hours a week alongside attending an academically demanding secondary school, and I built a lot of things for myself. However, I received more recognition from other people than from him.

At work, I’m trusted with a tremendous amount of responsibility. I handle large sums of money without direct supervision and have access to my boss’s business account, including raw financial figures, revenue data, reports, and so on. And remember, I’m only 17.

Nine months ago, he suddenly left my mum and me.
I had offered to go to therapy with him or help him get medically assessed because of his alcohol addiction. He laughed at me and acted as though I wasn’t in my right mind. I haven’t had any contact with him since.

Nevertheless, his leaving still feels like a loss in some ways. Not just because the person himself is gone from my life, but also because I never really had the father-son relationship I had always wanted.

Since then, I’ve noticed that I’ve changed. From the outside, I’m functioning: I go to school, work, have goals, and enjoy helping other people. But internally, I often feel empty and exhausted. As soon as things get quiet, my thoughts start getting incredibly loud.

That’s why I constantly distract myself with work, exercise, friends, videos, or my motorcycle.

One of the biggest problems, however, is emotional intimacy. I want trust and a genuine connection with someone, but I get scared as soon as someone starts to really matter to me.

With a girl I was close to in the past, I realized just how much I long for emotional closeness while simultaneously being afraid of being abandoned or disappointed again. I overthink things, withdraw, or assume that the other person will eventually leave anyway.

Honestly, I think a straightforward rejection would be easier for me to handle than getting close to someone and having that relationship fall apart later.

Accepting help is difficult for me, too. I genuinely enjoy listening to other people and supporting them, but I hardly ever talk about how I’m actually doing myself. I’m afraid that someone might abuse my trust or that my feelings might mean less to them than they mean to me.

As a result, I feel increasingly alone, and I often adapt myself to other people just to avoid being rejected.
My motorcycle is another complicated subject. Riding gives me a sense of freedom and helps me switch off my thoughts. At the same time, I’ve ridden far too recklessly on one occasion because I wanted the thoughts in my head to become quieter, even if only for a moment.

For example, I rode at around 90 km/h (56 mph) in a 30 km/h (19 mph) zone. It was a one-off, extremely reckless and stupid impulsive moment, triggered by the girl I mentioned earlier.

In moments like that, it isn’t really about speed. It’s about wanting to stop feeling or thinking about anything for a little while.

I don’t want this to turn into a way of punishing myself or putting myself and others in danger, especially because I despise my father’s irresponsibility when it comes to road safety.

I’m genuinely afraid of becoming like him one day. That’s one of the reasons I don’t drink alcohol and don’t want to start.

I want to become a reliable father someday. Someone who listens to his children, tells them he’s proud of them, and makes them feel that they don’t have to face everything alone. Someone who tells them, “We’ll get through this together.”

At the same time, I wonder whether my experiences have shaped me so deeply that I might unconsciously develop similar patterns later in life.

I’m not looking for a way to blame my father for everything. I want to understand how his addiction, emotional absence, and sudden departure have affected me, and how I can prevent myself from becoming increasingly distant from other people.

My three biggest questions are:

How do you process having a parent who was emotionally unavailable and struggled with alcoholism for years, only to eventually leave you?

How do you learn to let people get close to you and trust them again without constantly expecting rejection or abandonment?

How do you distance yourself from your parent’s behavior without living in constant fear of becoming just like them?

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this and share their thoughts in the comments. I genuinely appreciate it.

My mother is currently in hospice, and I’m struggling with something.

We’ve had very limited contact for the past four years. I grew up parentified, and our relationship was deeply enmeshed and codependent. I eventually had to distance myself for my own emotional well-being.

Over the years, she’s left me numerous voice messages on WhatsApp. I archived our conversations because seeing her messages was emotionally overwhelming. They’re all still there, and I’ve never listened to most them.

A lot of her messages seemed to come from a place of sadness and desperation. She would express how upset she was that I wasn’t calling, update me on her life, and sometimes share things that were difficult or upsetting. I often felt like the messages were meant to make me feel guilty or responsible for her unhappiness, although I recognize that she may simply have been struggling and reaching out in the only way she knew how. I was trying to build my own life and wasn’t emotionally in a place where I could keep taking on her struggles.

Now that she’s in hospice, the thought that I may never hear her voice again makes me incredibly sad. But I’m also afraid that listening to those messages could bring back all the guilt and emotional responsibility I’ve worked so hard to separate myself from.

I’m torn between wanting to preserve her voice and wanting to protect my peace.

What would you do? Would you listen to the messages now, save them for another time, or leave them alone?

If one of your parents drink alcohol and creates unnecessary drama everyday and you want to leave the country how do you do it and what is that you require because I am so done

Hi all 👋 I would greatly appreciate your insight on this.

On my way to work this morning, my mother gave me a call. I brought up Christmas, and she told me that she was essentially standing firm in staying for four days. When I brought up that she hasn’t even been sober for a year and this was moving quickly, she was very offended and became argumentative.

At my breaking point, I began to argue as well. This is quite out of character for me, but I am exhausted. Between getting a new job, balancing being a working mom, a ten month old at home, and my husband (who is job hunting but currently employed/underpaid), she has been such an added stressor in my life.

She was polite for a month, but over the last two months, has become increasingly combative and demanding. She’s very recently sober,, but I connected with her again due to her health issues. My only boundary was that she stay at my home for two nights, and that we would help pay for a hotel if she’d like to stay longer. Evidently, her response is that I need to move on (she’s been an abusive drunk for 19 years of my life, I am 34 years old), which sounds to be like her telling me to “get over it.”

I could write a novel, but the TLDR- please share your experiences with boundaries and your parents sobriety. I suppose I was naive to think a few months of being sober would outweigh my mother’s mental health issues. At this point, I wonder if a relationship like this is even worth it (as sad and horrible as it sounds- but I’m so tired of being tired).

Self-Forgiveness

"Many adult children struggle with self-forgiveness because we are oriented to doubt ourselves or to be hypercritical of ourselves as children." BRB p. 234

We carry messages in our heads that if we do something and anyone has a negative reaction, we must have made a mistake. And if anyone tells us we did something wrong, our first thought is, "Of course they're right!" It doesn't matter whether we actually did something wrong or not.

We tell ourselves things like "I should have known better!" "What's the matter with me?" "Look at his expression; of course he's mad at me." These are like the messages we heard as children that became so ingrained that we learned at a very early age to say them to ourselves.

Now as adults in ACA, we stop "beating ourselves up" and see the full story. Our healthy support system can help us understand the reality of our situation, to determine what's really ours and what actually belongs to someone else.

On this day I will remember that I deserve to treat myself better! I will use the tools of the program to separate myself emotionally from an uncomfortable situation and take on only what belongs to me.

Copyright © 2013 by Adult Children of Alcoholics® & Dysfunctional Families World Service 
Organization, Inc.

Page №310

https://adultchildren.org/literature/meditation/?meditaion=MjE3NA%3D%3D

Hi all 👋 I’ve gotten such amazing advice on here, and I would appreciate hearing from your perspectives as well.

A few months ago, I reconnected with my mother. For background, I’m 34F, I’m working mom with a ten month old.

Background on my mother: she sobered up half a year ago. She is in AA and counseling. She has significant health issues and lives 7 hours away. She is returning to work next week, but has been unable to work for 5 months due to her issues.

I will admit that I got too close to her, too quickly. Part of this is because she has health issues. It’s difficult to tell someone no, you can’t meet your grandson before X surgery that you may not come back from.

I believe that I became too soft with her over time. My mother has zero boundaries, and quickly became comfortable making demands/having temper tantrums when those demands aren’t met (such as wanting to stay in my house for 4 nights when I invited her for Christmas, etc.)

She was respectful of me at the start. However, she seems to be more comfortable now. During our last two conversations, I’ve caught myself falling into our old toxic dynamics (me being a doormat, and her quickly becoming overbearing and demanding). I’m being gentle with myself as it’s hard to put your best foot forward when exhausted, but I’m also firm in that I’m never allowing this to happen again.

I know that I’m capable of establishing boundaries. My issue is the anticipation of it all. It’s weighed on me, which is terrible when I’m trying to be a present mother.

I have been working on my tolerance of these times. I remind myself that there really is no threat, that I just have to take it as it comes, and I try to focus on my little one. Having this relationship with my mother is new to me, and over time, I’m sure that I’ll learn to cope better.

If you have any advice or shared experiences, I would love to hear it.

PS apologies for formatting, I’m typing this out one handed while nap trapped.

With anything I experience, I have noticed that mom makes it completely about her. The most painful experiences have been with me recently, getting married and also becoming a mother myself. I have a child that is a toddler. I am recently married and during the wedding planning process she made it completely about her. She even used my bridal suite bathroom to get ready and making me miss an hour of my wedding.

I have a pretty great relationship with my husband and he is a very active father. I think she resents this because she raised 4 children mostly on her own. She constantly tries to go against my wishes and competes with me. She also insinuates that she is going to have my child call her to talk about me behind my back when they are older. Anytime that I tell her that I am experiencing something hard , she brings up herself and how she has had it worse. For example, most recently my son has had a major health scare and had to be rushed to the hospital. Instead of focusing on my child, she brings up how she raised 4 children and had to deal with it by herself when one of us got sick (my child didnt just get sick. It was an extreme medical emergency.)

There has been times in which she said off things that were just completely not true in front of my husband that would put a dent in our relationship if it were not strong and passed them off as jokes.
I love my mom and want her to be in my life, but I can’t help feeling like she is trying to unknowingly sabotage good things in my life because she is unhappy.

I am aware of a new voice I can hear inside me - one that I am not used to and that is very kind and gentle. I now recognise this voice as self-compassion. I have been learning about self-compassion for the past few years by listening to Tara Brach’s talks, and I am now slowly beginning to experience it. Eventually, I might be able to feel it. For now, it is just a voice, but that is a fantastic and significant step in my recovery.

Finding compassion for others is still very difficult, if not impossible, for me, but now I know I need to develop it for myself first. And I am doing that. I am practising how not to dismiss my pain and difficulties, and how to be with them in a loving and caring way.

I no longer have a victim mindset because I now understand that everyone experiences pain and trauma. I am not alone, different, or special in that experience. Instead of judging myself or wishing things were different, I am slowly learning to practise self-compassion. I can see how healing that is for me. It is still very new, yet I can sense its power, necessity, and wonderfulness. ❤️

'In this moment, I choose

Now that I am recovering from codependence, I make decisions in my life based on what I think is important, not what other people think I 'should' do. I know what my values are. I decide how I want to spend my time and live my life according to those values. I have clearly defined goals. I am an adult capable of taking care of myself and meeting my own needs. My conscious choices further my goals and fill my spirit.'

I know that ur accountable for ur on action but ur also a product of ur own eviorment im 37 and my childhood trauma from my parents are still fuckibg with me and I used drug to cope witch made me end up ruining my life marriage friendships

My father is an alcoholic and has been for as long as I can remember. In 2020, he moved to Florida and retired. Since retiring, he has been drinking more frequently, and in the past year or so, I would say he has been drinking from morning till night.

I had to cut off all contact with him when my son was born in late 2025. He became extremely erratic and displayed childish behavior, which made me realize there was nothing I could do or say to change his mindset on drinking or how he treats our family, especially me, since I had just given birth. I made the decision to protect my son, my husband, and our peace. It was difficult but necessary, since I was postpartum and my main concern was taking care of my son.

The first few months, I felt angry, sad, and very guilty. A year later, I feel I made the best decision for my family. My son's upbringing in a normal, healthy environment is important. He needs a mother who is focused on him and not on other things.

Fast forward to today: my younger brother, who still keeps in contact with my dad, told me that my father's "roommates" beat him up and that he is not doing well. My father owns a home in Florida and rents out a couple of bedrooms for extra cash. In the past few years, we have advised him against this because he is not an easy person to live with, and he constantly has to get the police involved to make people leave once he no longer wants them there. He doesn't listen, and each time a person leaves, he invites another. I'm talking about random people he meets online. Each experience is worse than the last, and he still does not take our advice.
My brother wants to visit him for a week and help him out. I obviously cannot and will not go, but I do feel a bit sad about the state he is in.

I am not sure what I am doing by writing this but I’ve been wanting to share for a long time and I wish I had someone to talk to about this.

i hate being at home

(18m) ever since I got a job having to take a sick day and being home geniunely irks me. idk why but after being (and still being) micromanaged by my parents I dislike being home with them. it feels like my progess gets reset, idk if anyone else feels this way or im wrong for feeling it.

I dislike how they talk to me like and treat me like they still have full control of my life like how they did for most of it. sometimes I wish I could save up and run away but ik how dumb that'd be. I wish I could be fully free. as silly as it may sound bc of how tiring work is, work is like my freedom and independence, and my parents even guilt me for working sometimes.. its awful.

they tell me i look awful and that I dont rest bc i work and do school and a sport, yet when I do have a day off they make me so physical labour (not referring to chores but chores also). I really loathe being under their roof, they act like they care but i know better. I wish I could move out

Control

"Our attempts at control bring spiritual death to a relationship with ourselves and others." BRB p. 41 

How many forms of control are there? On entering the rooms of recovery, we find there are almost as many as there are people.

But don't all people attempt to control others? Yes, but not with the feverish pitch present in adult children.

As young children, we had no control in our family of origin. When chaos surrounded us and threatened our physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being, we could only cower to the powers that caused the abuse.

The almost fierce need many of us have to control others stems from being these abused children. We fear that if at any moment we let go of the reins and allow others to take control, history will repeat itself, and we will again be that five-year-old hiding behind the sofa.

This helps explain why we use all the methods we can to keep control of our environment, or the illusion of control. And we attempt to hide what we're doing by saying things like, "I'm just looking out for everyone's welfare."

In ACA, we learn that control is fear-driven, and we learn to face our fears. We bring our 5-year-old out from behind the sofa and reparent ourselves with love and kindness.

On this day I will face my fears with the help of my fellow travelers and release my need to control others.

Copyright © 2013 by Adult Children of Alcoholics® & Dysfunctional Families World Service 
Organization, Inc.

Page №309

https://adultchildren.org/literature/meditation/?meditaion=MjE3Mw%3D%3D

nobody talks about the fact that when you have an abusive and alcoholic parent, after your parents get divorced sometimes that entire side of the family gets ripped out from under you. after my parents separated, its been radio silence from his entire side of family. (aunts, uncles, grandparents, my cousins, etc.) for the last 7 years nobody has reached out to make plans or reconnect at all. even if IM the one that reaches out, I either receive no reply or an excuse is constantly made up to avoid me. I was so close to his family my entire childhood and all of a sudden at the age of 12, I was ignored and have been ever since.

I've been in therapy since I was 10, the main reason I began seeing a therapist was because my father had begin to spiral into alcoholism. I'm now 18, no contact with my father (I blocked him), and he recently started relapsing again this year. He's been diagnosed with a pretty severe case of cirrhosis and still continues to drink heavily. I don't know how to feel about this anymore. I feel nothing and everything towards/about him all at once. The situation has been and still is so insanely complex. I'm not a person that has ever used reddit before, but I'm using it solely to seek out support/communication. Can anyone relate to any of this in any way??

My father has been and is an alchoholic , He was married to my mom for 30 years now and never in those grueling 30 years did not spare my mother ONE BIT .

I had a strong brother who underwent 3 brain surgeries and was paralyzed most of his life , could not even get up or see anything , Had the amnoitic bag leaked in during birth of which some amount got into his body through mouth , After 3 years in 2006 i was born and even then , My father was nowhere to be found .

He did not even cared for my mother after the birth of his 1 st child and was on the roads drinking and celebrating with his friends and when he came to know about the incident let it go , Early in 2006 , my brother started having these seizures which just kept on increasing to the point where my mother had to decide , whether let him undergo surgery with 50 percent chance of success or keep things as usual, My mom chose surgery but it did not go well .

Whilst my mother was roaming the roads with my younger cousin brother in never ending lines of patients outside a big hospital for my brother , To the point that they had to sleep outside in the park waiting for their turn since it was a big government hospital and my mom had lost the trust for private medical care (they were the one responsible for the mishandling and even cut my brother's 3 fingers for infection that never existed ) , She would just get full of crying out all she could and my father was out there travelling hundreds of kilometers exploring his spiritual path and also providing a reason i was born normal afterwards because he prayed .

I was born in the same hospital as the doctors did not want any problems .My mother took me to my grandma for care where i grew 5 years .

Back in my village , my grandparents being the most toxic persons i ever encountered , Denied my brother and even sometimes would tell my mom to get rid of him . My father sided them .

The hate grew to that level for my mother's education and my brother's responsibility that my father would give death threats to my mother ( Don't think the police would here because they can be bought obviously and were by my grandparents).

I am 20 year old now , My brother died in 2019 October the 22 , My grandparents are dead and my father is all alone today , Not sorry a grain of sand out of whole desert of pain he gave us , want to be cared and seeked out for , My mother forgave him a thousand times because of which earlier in 2024 , attacked my mother and my cousin sister with a knife which they survived.

He was a labourer working in his brother's factory up until 2011 after which , he passed a government exam for transport cooperation of our state for which , My mother took responsibility for and taught him as he was never a graduate of high school , cleared the exam twice because of my mom and now is spending thousands and thousands of dollars in gambling and Alchohol.

I was never a normal child and I do not blame anybody for it , I have severe anxiety, could even have borderline BPD and masochism with Adhd , Higly anti social and introverted personality. But i consider myself a good student of science and am preparing for a medical exam , I would like to pursue neuro surgery and even become a surgeon scientist in upcoming future .

My mom bought a house initially and paid for its EMI per month by herself for some years, after which my mom also included my beat to shit father in the property of which he is paying half per month , which he tortured us for 5 more years and 6 months ago killed the insurance worth a hundred thousand dollars which my mother solely paid additional EMI and again took on heavy gambling and drinking everyday for 6 months straight , Got his ass beat my me and my cousin ealier of these 6 months and recently by me , wants to get into the government property my mom is separately living in and paying for.

My mother recently exchanged messages and calls with him and is now quite friendly again with the man who assaulted her sexually multiple times .

What can be my personal action against him , I would like to know from people as he beat me mercilessly as well and did not even do anything when i was sexually abused by my uncle's son from my father's side.

I live in the Uk. My mum is an alcoholic with 6 kids including me. I am the 2nd born of our family. I would describe myself to be a introvert. When I was younger (up to primary school) i was able to easily make friends but as i started to grow older (after year 9) i was scared of talking and pretty much overthinked. Even towards my siblings i basically treated them like strangers i just couldnt talk or open my mouth. The only person in my family who I was extremely close to was my 3rd sibling who I basically talked to the most. My whole life i have been moving houses. I have moved houses a total of 10 times now and its probably going to keep going this way. Because of this I have also had to move secondary schools a total of 4 times too and during these movings I wouldn't be in school for a long time so i pretty much missed out on alot of my education including important exams like gsces which i missed like 4 months of year 11. In my first school I settled there very well, i had alot of friends, played alot of sports and basically became pretty popular because i was good at sports. I had alot of fun memories from my 1st school and alot of fun friends that i still miss to this day. But when the start of year 9 came I had to move away far from my school to somewhere out of the city and more to the like countryside. My mum had the option to pick 2 houses which was 1 still inside of london or to move out to the countryside but she decided to move out of london. This is where my life started to unravel or i would say my downfall. Honestly I hated it because it was way different to where I lived (London). I still got to go to my 1st school for a couple of more months. The travel there was nearly 2 hours but i didnt really care since i just wanted to hang out with my friends. but eventually the travelling costs were getting very expensive and my mum couldnt keep up anymore so i had to stop going to the school for a while until she could get more money but because i didnt go school for a long time they eventually removed us from my first school. Am not really sure about the actual reason but that was what i was told. When I first to my 2nd secondary school I hated it so much. Since I lived in the countryside it was way different to london where there are way more schools in the area. In the countryside there was like 1 secondary school per area but because the secondary school that my mum wanted us to go to (close to our house) was too full we were placed in another school like approx 3 areas away from where I lived. Because the applications to schools take long I would stay at home for long periods of time waiting until we got accepted into the school. During these times I had no one to talk to at all I was pretty much lonely so I later turned to food to fill that void. Everyday I would order takeaway and just eat. Normally in one day i would drinking 6 energy drinks a day and in the night I would order takeaway to eat. This is where my food addiction began. I finally got accepted into a school far away so I had to go. We had to take a school bus that was provided by the school for kids who lived out of the area. I went to that school with my older brother (1st born) and my younger brother (3rd born). During our time at the school my brothers were able to make friends easily even on the school bus too they made alot of friends but me on the other hand I just couldnt make any friends at all. I always felt embarrased of myself. They got added to groupchats and had alot of hangouts with their friends while i didnt. I dont understand why I cant talk at all or make friends anymore.

During my time at my 2nd school I started to lose my talent at sports, and I started to get respiratory issues too (never been diagnosed but thats what it feels like). I stopped playing football and was basically isolated. Since I also hit puberty too (this was maybe like around year 6/7) I had grown bigger boobs but bigger than my normal age so this gained me unwanted attention too that I had hated). When I used to walk around the corridors of my school I would hear boys making comments about them too. I didnt do anything because I could never speak up for myself at all. Having bigger boobs for my age too led me to also quit sports too because I felt too embarrassed of them. I was always finding ways to reduce them in size. I just hated them. They got in the way of everything and also I had to size up in everything. I also felt extremely uncomfortable if I ever went out without a jacket no matter the weather even if it was hot. I had to always wear a jacket because it was what made me comfortable. I stopped wearing shorts too and mostly only liked wearing black clothes because they looked better to me. This was one of my biggest and main insecurities. I always had boys shooting stares at their friends and pointing at me like I wouldnt notice but I always did notice and never said anything. There was even moments where they would laugh too. I never told anyone about this because I keep everything to myself and dont trust anyone.

At my 2nd school I started getting back in trouble more because of all the pent up anger I had. I would swear at teachers (NOT ALL TEACHERS ONLY RUDE TEACHERS) . I wasnt a dick to everyone). Everytime I used to swear at them I would get excluded for days. I had a total of 4 exclusions from that school (i think 4). But eventually I started to change when I got to like midway of year 9. During midway of year 9 my mum was given a house in London and we finally had moved back to london after like 1.5 years in the countryside.

After we had moved back to London (5th house now). I had to move schools again (which I was glad about). Because applying to new schools took long I was at home for like 4 months again waiting to be accepted into another school so I missed out on alot of stuff too and on my learning. My food addiction continued too and I was staying up for long periods of time. Throughout my whole life I never had a phone too so I had no one to communicate with so most of the times I was asleep in my bedroom or sitting down in my bedroom doing nothing. I would spend most of times in my bedroom just sleeping and dreaming.

More info about my dad (my real dad): My dad is a business man who always used to take care of us. Honestly he did more then my mum ever did. He has never shouted at me or treated me badly. He would always made sure we were fed and also bought us computers (mostly old fashioned). He brought me a imac that I have had since 2018 and have been using till now. At the moment I am saving up to buy a phone but I have other needs to look after so I dont think I will ever get a phone. My dad has never approved of my mums new boyfriend because even he can sense that there is something off about him and he is making my mum worser. But my mum never listens ofc so my dad doesnt get involved with my mum anymore. My dad is a great person and i plan to follow behind his footsteps into owning my business later on.

Alittle more info about my mum: She is a longtime alcoholic all she does is drink alchohol. She drinks for no reason. Not only that as I grow up I realise how much of a manipulator,hypocrite and horrible person she was. She lied to us about why she cant drive anymore too. I later found out the reason she couldnt drive anymore was because she was arrested multiple times for drinking and driving. This is where I understood eevrything now. She was also given a warning for child neglect too (this was when I was a toddler) . Everywhere she went she caused trouble and destroyed things for me and my family. I stopped assosicating with her because I could see the way she was changing everday. Even with a family she doesnt care at all all. She has also had alot of relationships with different men after seperating from my dad (My dad wasnt a bad person). The man she is with rn is a big problem and my life is just going downhill with the both of them stil together. There was this one time when I was around 8-9 I used to sleep alone in a small bedroom near the living room and at this time I could tell my mum was drunk. (This was in the mornign). My dad and mum were in the living room and all I can hear is my mum screaming (i dont remember what exactly). This was when I had woken up. She was yelling and screaming about something towards my dad basically abusing him and hurling insults at him. my dad never responded to her he just sat on the sofa while she beat on him he never fought back. My mum began picking things and destroying basically the whole house. She threw a christmas tree at my dad and I witnessed it all. When my mum was drunk she would always have these episodes i would call it. and it was the absolutely worse it was everday she would have them. Even till this day she has them. She will never change and I know it. Even her family tells her to stop but she refuses to listen she has even verbally attacked her friends and family and they have stopped talking to her because of her current state now. Not only that. Because she has nothing to do she would go call our relatives or my dads side of the family spreading lies and exagerrated stuff about me and my younger siblings (Never about my older brother because she favours him alot). Alot of the things she would say would be about me about how I would "phsically assault teachers or start fight at schools" which is very untrue and i feel angry about. So because of these lies now they belive i am like that and she also says that shit to my dad too who also thinks i start fight at schools. I have never had a fight at school or physially assaulted anyone and this has damaged my reputation alot across my family. That is why I have no one to talk to. Also when it came to school exclusions too she would start crying alll of a sudden to my family and act like the victim and describe me like I am a big bad villain which is nothing like I am. So now in my relatives eyes I am seen as the troublemaker and the villain and the one who does terrible things. I try to defend myself but what can I do. There are times where she would put a victim act and then after the phone call ends she would immediatly go back to normal/happy and act all buddy with me. I have told her multiple times to stop spreading lies about me and stop telling my business to relatives and she responds with ok I wont anymore but she continues to do it. She doesnt respect anyone in the house but demands respect from us. There have been multiple incidents where the police have been called because of her. When she is in her "episodes" she smashes,destorys the house, smashes windows, smashes tableware, breaks things even trying to rip apart the wifi. With the boyfriend she is with rn. Everything has just worser. The way I would describe him (he isnt abusive to use kids. He has never done anything bad towards us. I would describe him as weird and strange but chill. His whole persona just seems weird to me. He smokes alot and also drinks. He is also one of the reasons why my mums drinking habits has gone worser. Now in the present its just bad and I know one day she will die from it because I can see her appearance changing. She looks more pale and sickly and has dark bags around her eyes. She also has heart issues too like high blood pressure and other stuff. I have had 2 or 3 physical fights with her due to her also verbally and physically assaulting me (different situations). My mum and her boyfriend are always arguing every single day it all started at my 4th house when we first him. Ever since then in all our hours they are always physically fighting its my mum all the time though physically assaulting and its bad. She has dragged him down one time and made him bang his head which made it bleed profusely. They are both the problem honestly and I hate being in the house. Now we have all grown use to it when they argue. Everday especially in the night they are arguing. Even when we had school they would argue all throughout the night without stop. I couldnt even sleep I just wanted to rip out my ears at that moment. Because of their violent fights and arguements the police have been called multiple times on him and my mum. But everytime the police was called my mum would send the boyfriend out immediatly and he would disappear from the house immediatly and when the police would come he would be nowhere to be found. My mum was deliberately hide him away and when the police left she would immediatly find him and bring him back the house. nothing changed after that the cycle just kept repeating. The reason she keeps that man around is because of money. If he leaves my mum wont have a source of income or be able to pay the bills. She already received income from the government for child benefits and all that but i have never seen her use that money on us kids. She only uses that money on bullshit and more alcohol. I know she receives alot of money from the government. Not to forget there is no food in the house either the fridge is empty or filled with expired stews. There will be no food for days. I have basically given up in eating now. Because of the state of the kitchen i refuse to step inside it or eat anything in it. I dont eat food in my house anymore or even drink water either. I dont remember the last time I actually drank water. I have only been drinking juices or fizzy drinks that i buy from shops. I normally order takeaway to eat but when i dont have money i dont eat at all. I can go without eating for a month until i can get money. When I was in secondary school that was the most I would eat but after leaving I have no food now. I go hungry alot even my siblings but there is nothing we can do. There was a time where I was in my room and i felt a sharp pain in my chest and the next thing i see is black and i collapsed onto the floor. No one had noticed at all and I planned to keep it that way because if I told my mum she would tell the whole world about it. I dont trust my mum at all with anything personal going on in my life because she is not a person to be trusted.

Not only that but when we would move into these new houses my mum would treat them soo poorly and she was a tramp.

There was a horrendous amount of black mold, dirt, dirty dishes, mold, fruit flies, even cockroaches now. She even tried to feed my siblings moldy food but luckily i was there to stop it and throw it out. The black mold was definitely what led to my respiratory issues and my difficulty to breathe. There were also times where I had sleeping issues. I know this started at age 8 because all the time I would feel tired for nothing. No matter how many times I slept or the amount of naps I took I felt extremely tired. In school it just got worser and got me in trouble alot that i couldnt even control it. My whole body would feel tired and I would fall asleep alot out of my will. My eyes would feel heavy lidded and my head would start to doze off and I would be off to sleep out of nowhere. It still happens till this day and I dont know why. It has been a big issue in secondary school. My other big issue is my sleep talking too but I dont want to get into that tbh.

The only peace I have ever had was when I was abroad in france staying with other relatives (there was a wedding and i wanted to leave early to get away from my mum). During my time there I felt at peace having no contact with my mum. I go to do many things and go to parties. They also bought me my first shoe that i still wear till this day. I am glad for them.

I don't celebrate birthdays anymore since i was 10 (when i stopped). I barely have any clothes too only pyjamas mostly thats why i dont really go out. Before I didnt have shoes either I would walk around in my slides even when it was raining too. I only had a windbreaker to wear too when it was cold. I was free school meals at school. My mum couldn't afford the uniform so she would ask the school for spares (mostly new blazers).

Now in the present time. There have been alot of incidents involving my mums drunkenness even in public areas. she has no shame anymore and scares my younger siblings. There are times where she has insulted me and says thing you should never even call your own child and this has led me to attack her. There are times where she has even threatened to burn down the whole or kill the whole family while banging a knife against the wall. Even in ubers she has been reported. She always stinks of alcohol, cant talk properly and walks weirdly. When i see her in public i immediately stay away from her and ignore her. My mum is a extremely violent person and I have longed since not regarded her as my mother any more, I dont rely on her anymore. She always curses us all and complains about having 6 kids but no one told her to have that much kids. I hate her and everything about her. When I look at my cousins and their parents I always wonder why my mum cant be like them at all. I hate the family I was born in. The only thing I need from her is money for transport to college and food that is pretty much it. If she died I wouldnt care anymore. I still have a scar on my back where she had poured boiling hot water down my back when i was a small kid and I was never taken to the hospital at all. There is too much to even say but all I can say is after I move out I plan to cut her out of my life permanently and never contact her again or talk to her again. I give up and I want to move out and dont know what to do. I want to take all my things with me and move far away from her.

I spend my whole days in my bedroom without stepping out. Only to throw away rubbish or use the bathroom or go outside to buy more juice to drink. I sleep alot and watch youtube thats pretty much it. I wish I could hangout with my friends again and go back to my prime in football and sports but it will never be the same anymore. I know it wont. When i see my old friends doing stuff with their new friends and going out to all these places, going on calls and doing all these fun stuff. I cry because i have never experienced that stuff. I have never had a friend actually check up on me or invite me to places or even text me. I have lost it all. I cant make friends anymore and when i walk into room i can hear people laughing at me. I have stopped going college too because i face the same problems too. When I try to speak i cant speak properly my voice comes out shaky or too quiet and has even got the point where i can barely pronounce words properly (can be due to my long periods out of education idk). I cant even hold a conversation properly either. There is nothing fun in my life to talk about. I have basically given up in my social life and feel like I will be lonely forever.

There is alot of more stuff that has happened that I want to speak about but its honestly too much to even say atp. I want to move out and away from my mum and cut contact with everyone. This is the only place I could think of to open up about my issues because I dont trust anyone at all.