My Story, Part 1 Childhood

I grew up in a home where neither parent drank. In fact, my father hated alcohol and didn't associate with his siblings who drank and rarely would he serve it in his house. If my mother had one drink a year it was a lot. My brother and sisters still to this day don't drink either. Then along came me.

Despite the alcohol free home there was a lot of chaos, some abuse and violence. My parents did not have a happy marriage, were always arguing and threatening divorce. They never did split up but I remember as a child being scared they would. Sitting at the top of the stairs late at night hearing the screaming matches and wondering which parent I would have to live with but mostly wishing I lived in a different family. I don't have that many happy childhood memories. Most center around my father's anger and my fear of him.

I should also add here that my parents were extremely religious and our lives were very church centered. I went along with all this as a child but would turn my back on God as a young adult.

I was on the shy side as a kid, was neither popular or disliked in school. More like a wall flower most people didn't notice. Often I felt awkward, unattractive, less then. But I had a small group of friends and always found myself angling a way to go over to their homes. Anything to escape my house. I was happiest when surrounded by my friends although I never once told anyone about anything that happened at home as I was too ashamed and recognized at an early age it just wasn't normal.

I had my first drink at age 14. A friend and I had gotten hold of a bottle of red wine and drank it together. I still remember that feeling today, 30 years later: a warm blanket wrapped around me spreading to my extremities and the fuzzy feeling in my mind. Relaxed, yet giddy. I loved it! I didn't drink much during my high school years mostly because I didn't have access to it. But when I did get a hold of it I usually drank to get drunk.