Posts Tagged ‘abuse’


After dad lost his job mum had to go full time with her cleaning job to make sure we could afford the basics, food, water, electric, gas, rent. It was hard work but mum did it and we somehow managed. I don’t how she did it but she did. Five days a week working full time while doing the cooking and cleaning too. Dad just made things out of wood, did odd jobs here and there and drank as much as he could as often as he could. Looking back it must have been a daily struggle for mum, trying to keep on top of everything while dad tried his best to sink us further into debt. As fast as mum earnt money dad spent it. It would be easy to blame dad for everything but alcohol is a drug and it can be additive to the point where it takes over your life. This is what happened to dad but back then there wasn’t the awareness or help that there is now. If there had been life could have been so different to the one I experienced growing up as a kid.


Dad had a good job at the Co-op warehouse. It was easy to get to, only 10 minutes walk from home and the wages were decent. We bought a colour TV, music centre and other bits to bring us into the 20th century. I was happy at school and playing with my new friends. Mum was happy with her part time cleaning job. Everything seemed fine. More money for dad meant more to spend on beer and consequently late nights and days off work. Eventually it all caught up with dad and he was sacked from his job for persistent days off. Alcohol had taken over his life and now it had a knock on effect on ours too. Less money meant less for food, bills and little treats. Dad continued drinking, sometimes going missing for days, coming home with cuts, bruises and torn clothes and no memory of what had happened. If only dad could have kept off the alcohol or at least drunk in moderation things might have been very different, but I’ll never know. I only know the reality that I lived through and can only guess at the reality that might have been.


He lives over the road from me. He’s different to me, different to everyone. I turn from the victim to the bully. All my bad experiences come out in unprovoked verbal abuse directed at him. For no other reason than I can, he’s an easy target and doesn’t or won’t fight back. I call him names, names I don’t understand the meaning of at the time but deep down I know they are hurtful, wrong, but I still say them to him, attack him with them. It makes me feel powerful at the time to find someone weaker than me, different to me and different to others someone I can attack and hurt and who doesn’t fight back and who is more different to others than I am. It’s wrong but I do it. If I could go back I would not do it. I would be his friend or avoid him altogether but I would not attack him and harm him as I did back then.