Up until 4th grade, I lived with my alcoholic mom. She was a single parent because my parents had gotten a divorce when I was four years old. She had always been a drunk. Luckily, she barely ever hit me or my brother, who is three years older than me. Occasionally, if she was in a bad mood and we happened to be in the wrong place we would get hit. We would get yelled at a lot, partially because we were annoying, but mostly because she always had a hangover and was sick. She always had a reason (other than she drank too much) for being sick, but now that I'm older I can see that it was the drinking.
We suffered in ways other than getting yelled at and hit. We would have to go to school with out-of-style, old, and ugly clothes. Although I wasn't dressed nicely, I had friends that loved me, but they couldn't ever come to my house. The only best friend I had ever had a chance to spend time with was my cousin, Elizabeth*. I couldn't ever go over to my friends' houses because I didn't have a way of getting there, and they couldn't come to my house because my mom was too drunk. But I lived.
I moved in with my father when he remarried. I made friends fast because I'm very outgoing and for a while things were great. Up until 8th grade, I had had problems before with my mother, but never anything like what I was about to experience.
One night I was staying over at her new apartment (she had to move out of the old house because she couldn't pay the mortgage). That night she just wouldn't leave me alone. She wouldn't let me go to sleep and she put me through hell. I tried to call my dad to tell him to pick me up, but right in the middle of the conversation she ripped the phone out of the wall. She wouldn't let me put it together, and by this time she was throwing my bag out the door and telling me to get out. She lived in a really bad part of town and I was afraid. It was 2:30 in the morning. I got out of that apartment and walked, and I clearly remember how scared I was. A young girl walking alone late at night. An easy target. Luckily, my dad and I had enough time on the phone for him to realize that I was in trouble and he came and got me.
The whole next day my mom kept calling. She still harasses my family and me. There's nothing we can do about it. She's threatened to take my step-mother's life, she leaves things out in the bushes, she leaves long, drawn-out messages on our answering machine and won't stop even though I've pleaded with her. She's been to rehab, but she won't admit that she has a problem. Even if she has admitted it, she's done nothing about it.
She's made my life miserable for the most part, but I'm still alive and going. I'm sending in my story to tell other girls and guys that if you're in my situation, there's help. I'm now going to Ala-teen to get help from other teens who have alcoholic parents, but during the time when I didn't have Ala-teen, I had friends to fall back on. So just remember that you can get past a problem with a friend or a group of people who can relate.
*Name has been changed