My dad once told me that he'd cut back on the alcohol. He was drinking at the time to relieve otherworldly crazy stress from work, my mother, and my brother. I believed him.
A week later I was (literally) kicking him out of my front door because he called my mother a cunt. I kicked him right in the chest and he fell backwards on his back. He was in shock. His face went from anger to just sheer disgust, either in me or himself, I'm still not sure. He staggered back to his feet and then left in his truck. Up until that point my father was my superhero. He was a firefighter AND police officer...at the same time. He could say no wrong or do no wrong and was my role model. Calling my mother a cunt changes that though. Those days are over. I cried a lot that night. My image of my father was shattered.
All because he thought he could handle the booze and control it. That was last March. He's going to be a year sober this Sunday. I'm starting to see my superhero again.
You and my father are a lot alike Chula. I've told you that before. Quit the booze. Your family needs you to do it because I can guarantee after this last episode, they see you differently now. Quit the booze and change your life.
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LastFM
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