I’m a recovering alcoholic mother, and the child of an alcoholic mother. I won’t put my children through the same dark chaos
As a child, I used to lie to my mother about when parents’ evening at school was. Not because I had been underachieving, but because I was scared she would turn up, drunk, staggering around and slurring, again.
My childhood was mostly spent caring for myself and my mother as she took to her bed, wailing, with bottles of vodka. She went in and out of hospital, eventually ending up in a care home in her early 60s after years of absolute darkness and chaos, having wrecked her mind and body.
Continue reading...from The Guardian http://bit.ly/2CW9tSq
