WARNING ~MAJOR RANT~WARNING.

WARNING

SERIOUSLY DON'T READ THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE ME LOSE IT.
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM ABOUT TO TYPE.
BUT IT WILL CONTAIN SWEAR WORDS.
LOTS OF THEM


So, I'm having a lay in this morning and watching the car crash T.V that is Jeremy Kyle, patron Saint of the council estate and all peoples stupid. When the phone rings.

"Lia, it's me"
"Who?"
"Me!"
"And, you are?"
"It's me, I know it's been a while, but"
"Who are you" starting to get annoyed now
"I can't believe you don't who it is"
"I will count to 3 and hang up if you don't tell me who you are"
"You still doing that old trick"
An alarm went off in my head
"1, 2"
"It's me your husband"

At this point I did in fact hang up, last time I spoke to him was in May 2006, when his father died and he phoned us (the kids and me) to tell US how much he loved us and how he was all alone in the World and how the kids should come and see him, now his Dad was dead, as he was suffering.
Yeah right, like we gave a shit, it had been 1996 since they had seen him last, or had a birthday card, Christmas card etc.
After 10 years he suddenly remembered he had 2 sons and a daughter.

I sat staring at the phone.
No, It was a dream.
He really hadn't just phoned me!

The phone ran again.
"Please don't hang up Lia, It's me Adrian"
"Are you joking me"
"No, Princess, it really is me"
"Are you sober"
"As sober as I can be"
"So, no change there then"
"Lia, don't"
"What tell you the fucking truth"

My hackles were up by this point, how dare he phone me and piss on my day, what the hell is it this time.

"I love you Lia, your still MY girl"
"So you have taken up drug taking as well as being a drunk"
"Well, it's ALL your fault I'm a drunk, you did this to me"

I hung up.


That selfish, small minded arrogant, fucking bastard is not about to blame me for his fucking failures in life.
He left us, he choose us over what ever it was he was chasing in the bottom of a fucking glass.

Do your self a favour at this point and go get a coffee as I am about to implode.

People will tell you that it is an "illness"......FUCK OFF.
They will tell you it is a disease.....FUCK OFF.
They will say that these people need help.....FUCK OFF.
They will say these people need understanding....FUCK OFF.

Am I angry, yes I bloody well am.
Not for myself, for those kids of mine who grew up without their Father.

Callum is 17 1/2 and has no real idea of who is Father is, he has spent his life without the single most important male in his life.
Callum is a wonderful young man, I get told it often enough, but in many ways he is the lest damaged by his Father's drinking.
I think that is because he was so young when his father left, coupled with the fact that the others have protected him from hearing the worst of it all.

Ashley was very close to his Father and was 10 when it all finally exploded and the gates of Hell were opened.
He has suffered greatly from the loss of his Father, a man he was immensely close to and looked up to. Ashley knew his Father well, both before he was a drunk and then after he became one.
There were times when that little lad had to get between his parents to stop the beatings that I took, for whatever drunken reason his father could come up with.
He'd known his Father as a big man to look up to, he was his hero.
The damage done to Ashley by the disintegration of his Father has been immense,
it has taken it's toll on a kind caring and very sensitive young man and
Ashley has without doubt in my mind suffered the most.
Ashley is the one who remembers the beating the most, he was the one who would grab the others and drag them out of the room, often out of the house and to the neighbors.
He was the one who called the Police, who hid under the bed, protecting his sister and baby brother.
He was the one who helped me put the house back together, when his Father had wrecked it.
He was the one who was silent for so many, many years, as he just didn't want to talk about what
he had seen. It was far too hard for him to deal with.
Ashley has suffered deep, deep depression for a long time and is only now starting to emerge
from the cocoon of silent dark misery that he had been in for so very long.
It's been a hard climb for a young man who witnessed so very much, who
has been afraid that he would turn into the monster that his Father became, that he
would be a drunk, in fact he did in his teens have a small problem with alcohol,
which took us a while to get under control.
Ashley is well now and like I said finally coming out of the cocoon he wrapped himself in.
I will be damned if I will have him slip back into that cocoon.

Then there is our Patricia.
Where to start with her, my little Daddies girl. She adored him and has told me that when I first
made their Father leave, that she hated me, blamed me for the loss of him.
Poor little thing, God she was mad at me and for years in fact.
Oh I knew she was mad at me and I knew why, but like Ashley, I just had to let her be that way with me. I knew one day she would realise that I had done it all for the love of them.
However that day was a long time coming.
Her Father was a God to her. No man was ever bigger in her eyes than him.
It's been very hard on her, her sense of abandonment has been one of the hardest things for her to get over. She has also felt huge guilt at her treatment of me, as I was the focus of her hatred and hurt. Things have been hard for her, her anger has been shocking at times and again she
struggled with alcohol and being able to control it.
She has pushed away people not wanting or trusting them to get close.
Her boyfriend of the passed year or so, has said it is like pushing water up hill trying to get close to her. He adores her and it has taken a lot for him to brake through the barriers to get to the heart of her, he's a brave man, kind and caring and finally he is getting there.
Patricia is at last starting to understand what true love for someone really means.
She is only now beginning to trust people.

So don't tell me about how it's so hard for the alcoholic, FUCK THEM, they leave a wake of destruction behind them that makes a Tsunami look like a gentle tide turning.
I will be bollocks-ed if I will let that man back into their lives.

What so he can FUCK them over again.
So they can relive a past they never deserved to live in the fucking first place, oh yes, lets open old wounds and while we are in there twisting the knife around lets get the salt out and fuck over these young people some more.

So suddenly he remembers that he fathered three kids and that they are out there some where, maybe he thought that we had put our lives on hold and were just sitting around waiting for him to get his shit together...some hope.
Maybe he thought that we would just want him to pop up and say hi , how are you all, look here
I am the returning hero.

Well, hero's don't come in the form of toxic bastards that beat and rape their wives in front of the
kids.
Who walk out 'cos the wife wants them to get help for their so called fucking illness, disease or whatever fucking thing do gooders want to call it nowadays.
He made the choice to drink, to pick alcohol over his family of 3 kids and a wife, who worshipped the ground he walked, adored him and wanted to spend their lives with him.
Who thought he was a hero, a God like man.
Who after all just loved him.

He choose his path in life.
When he stood at the cross roads and the signs said,
FAMILY
DRINK
He chose DRINK
He took the easy path and refused to do the hard work it would have taken to get his shit together.

There is no one on this planet that can tell me any different.
I was there
I know what was said
I know what was done
I know the pain I felt
and
I know the pain of my children.

He had a choice.
If he now knows he made the wrong one.
Oh well!

But since he left us in 1996,
Has he stopped drinking
NO

His choice.

I have protected, nurtured, raised, loved and taken the shit of bringing up our children alone.
I don't ever remember thinking that being a single Mum, with no support from their father was a fucking good idea.
It is not a path I chose, It was thrust upon me.
I have stood squarely by my children and done an amazing job.
Not because I wanted to, but because I am their mother and if it wasn't my choice,
it sure as FUCKING well wasn't their choice.
They deserved so much more.

I have no sympathy for a creature who put the bottle before their children.
Life's about choice, he chose his path.
HE FUCKING WELL CHOSE TO CARRY ON DRINKING.
HE COULD HAVE GONE AND GOT HELP AT ANY TIME SINCE 1996,
BUT HE'S STILL DRINKING
WHAT A FUCKING JERK.

I make no apologies for what I have said and my swearing.
This is my life,
My children,
My blog
AND
you were warned.