Heading for Home - a former Alcoholic's Testimony
My life up until this year had to me seemed to me to be near to pointless. My father was dead (through alcohol), and at times, my mother might as well have been. Our family did not function in any fashion whatsoever and the only thing on offer was anger and hatred. Every one around me seemed to have a chip on their shoulder and it wasn’t long before I got one too. In 1988, the day before the Lockerbie bombing, I left the so-called family home vowing never to return. Soon after, I married Sharon, my partner of 6 years.
After I left home and split from my family, things, materially at least, got better. I got out of a dead end job at a car dealer and now have ended up at in a comfortable, better paid position. I holidayed abroad, culminating in a fantastic vacation in the Maldives a couple of years ago. If you get the chance, go there. It is the closest you will get to paradise on this earth. Why? Chiefly because mans’ interference is at a minimum and nature flourishes. We even bought a new car albeit a Vauxhall Corpse, sorry Corsa. I bought a new PC, we bought our own home, I pursed many hobbies etc. etc. and yet a huge invisible chunk was missing.
Those that I thought should have been my closest allies, my family, had become wrapped up so much in their own problems that the anger and frustration just blew us apart. I was missing those that many can count on and perhaps take for granted. The death of my father back in 1999 brought us all back together briefly, but the old resentments were simmering beneath the surface. After a gap of a decade it was more or less back to how it used to be. I am now out of the family circle altogether.