My parents were alkies, fucked up, bestial, filthly alkies. They were violent bits of shit, as a kid I was hospitalised on a number of occasions because of their violence.
They would paaaartay until the early hours after staggering in from the pub, this was all prior to my fourteenth birthday, I ran away a few months after I was fourteen and was a rough sleeper for six months. Eventually I moved in with my grandparents who devoted a lot of love and effort into rehabilitating me.
One thing I could never get about my parental pissheads was sober or less pissed they had little interest in me, but heavily pissed they would try to engage me in stuff. I’d be asleep in bed and my alky mother would come storming in to ask me some trivial shit about some pointless crap.
I can remember one day, she harumphed into my room and started on some shite questioning about my musical tastes. This was in the mid 70’s and she was demanding to know if I was into punk as she wanted me to be a mod. I was 12 for fucks sake did it fucking matter. Well I did my usual thing agree with her otherwise I’d get a beating.
Other times my stepfather would stagger in wittering some trivial shit about something. Once he turned up with a kitten in his pocket that he’d bought in a boozer, he thought he was so cool, I thought he was a twat and took pity on the poor thing.
Why do alkies do that? How does alcohol trigger part of their brain to behave like utter tosspots, particularly to their children. Most of the time they are indifferent to kids because the needs and demands of children take them away from the oh so important thing called drinking.
Sadly, because of my childhood I have total contempt for alkies. The only positive thing I can say is that my parental scum both died painfully due to complications of alcohol abuse, I found that very satisfying.