My Daddy… The Alcoholic

Health Parenting & Family Advice | by | 18th Jan 2017

Warning: This is an honest account of a young persons life with an alcoholic father, dealing with issues of domestic violence, alcoholism, mental health and suicide. Some readers may find the content of this article disturbing.

If you are affected by any of the issues raised in the article then there are links at the bottom of the article of organisations that can help. This article originally appeared on TheSprout, an information and advice website for young people in Cardiff.

My Daddy The Alcoholic

Alcohol – Something they say can make you feel a little more carefree; something that unleashes your ‘inner dancing queen’; and if drunk too much, something that gives you a little headache in the morning… yeah right!

For me, alcohol has provided me with a soul-crushing lifetime hangover since before I can remember. Alcohol has changed my life. Sometimes it’s ruined it, sometimes it’s saved me (the relationship break-up saviour) and sometimes I’ve blamed it on every little bad thing that’s ever happened to me. Why might you ask? ‘Why?’ has always been the question that fills my brain when the lights turn off at night, alcohol is why.

I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy a good tipple or two on the weekends; I even worked in a bar during my student days. However, the after-effects of a ‘few pints or two’ have lasted more than the average hangover. Alcohol is the reason why my mind and the cliché heart on my sleeve have felt hung-over pretty much my whole entire life.

Growing up, I had a Mum and I had a ‘Dad’; however, he was two completely different people. My Dad, well, he was kind, he was intelligent and he had the social standings of a saint; that was until he had a bottle or two of whisky down him and he turned into someone unrecognisable. He turned into the monster that haunted my every living day.

Good Memories Of An Alcoholic Father

It’s hard to think of a time when my father was ever sober. I guess, growing up, seeing him swig whatever ‘devils drink’ he could get his hands on was pretty much the norm. Sometimes, it didn’t even necessarily make him a liability; alcohol, for some part, has given me some of my favourite memories of him.

Like this one time, I came home from school and there was a park in my garden (like a proper park!). He told me that he’d stolen the local park (which I may add was my absolute paradise as a child) and that everyone was going to be jealous of me. We spent that afternoon, until the early night swinging and sliding, until my mother started shouting, yelling at us to get in so that I could have a bath ready for school the next day.

Me being me, I believed that he’d stolen said park up until a few years ago. In hindsight, he actually just worked for the local council and he got given it before they threw it to the tip. But hey, that day will forever be my favourite day with him. With that said, there’ll always be something else in the background of that day that will always play a bigger part, that being the bottle of Bells that he couldn’t even put down to push me on the swing. Although, sometimes, there were okay times like this, alcohol will always find its way to tarnish every little good memory I have of him.

Broken Promises And An Absent Father

The bad stuff, well, that’s what gives me the lifetime hangover. I remember spending Father’s Day waiting for him to come home so that I could give him his present. I remember living off beans and toast because he’d spent all our money on drink. I remember the shouting, the fights, the erratic behaviour. I remember him battering my mother to a pulp and leaving her there, sometimes conscious, sometimes unconscious, bleeding, crying, surrounded by broken whisky bottles.

I remember my Dad spending Christmas Day falling into the tree because he was so blind drunk, ‘accidentally’ burning the turkey because he’d passed out on the sofa with a heavy head of ‘alcoholic dutch courage’. I remember the cuts on his face from face-planting the pavement on his way home from the pub. I remember him spending every other minute not spent at the pub at the bottom of the garden in his shed (which us kids were banned from… who knows what he was doing).

I remember the broken promises, the empty whisky bottles and feeling like I’d never mean as much to him as his signature bottle of spirit. I remember his illness; he spent his day topping up the never-ending bottle of whisky, losing himself in the process. Alcohol was his first love and we, his family just simply fell short.

Eventually, I began to hate the man my father had become. The happy memories became few and far between and eventually, after years of living with an alcohol abuser, my mum decided to up and go.

Finding Freedom

Leaving a drunk that had made everyday a living hell; that was easyLeaving the hope of ever getting my perfect, strong daddy back; that was a different story. Everyone wants to have a father who cares.

Even with our newfound freedom, we still weren’t free of my father and his demons. He followed us. He’d sit outside my primary school threatening to kidnap us. More so, he’d threaten to kill himself and take us kids with him. He’d constantly phone. He’d sit in my back garden and watch us through the window. Police presence became the norm, his actions even more so.

Alcohol had not only taken the idealistic father figure out of my family unit, it had taken his mental and physical health. My father became a shell of the man that once spent his afternoon pushing me on the swings. Alcohol had taken the only man that I ever wanted comfort from. I was no longer ‘daddy’s little princess’ and he was no longer my ‘King’. His kindness, his intelligence and his social standing of a saint had died; just with every little bit of respect I had for him.

Eventually, the endless phone calls became fewer, I no longer saw him at the school gates waiting for me, the Police Constable no longer spent his evenings playing Snakes & Ladders with me and my mum’s worries were non-existent. It was as if my father had got on the nearest freight train and disappeared before my very eyes. I didn’t quite mind that much though. I was happy to be away from the walking bottle of whisky.

To some extent anyway… you’re always going to want your parent to admit defeat and come running back to you. Every Christmas was still spent sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, opposite the door, waiting for him to come in and apologise for what he’d put us all through. Every birthday, I still expected that card through the front door and even at some points, I wanted him to be waiting at the school gate. He never showed, ever again.

Losing My Father

I waited, I wanted, I needed and I expected him to show. Until my dreams were shattered on one very dark morning of September. I got up that morning and put my brand new Year 7 school uniform on to find out that my dad had taken his own life. I was 11, my father just 37 years old. I guess my father had admitted defeat in the wrong way, letting his addictions kill him. That was the hard bit. The father that once spent his Sundays walking up the mountains with me, the one that took me to my paradise park as a child – he was gone, alongside every hope of a happy reunion. Alcohol and his addictions were the main culprits, his lack of ability to speak to people was the second.

As a child, I used to think he was selfish. I used to think he was incredibly weak, but as I’ve grown older, I’ve opened my eyes wide to the thought of addiction and mental health struggles. My father wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t weak, he just needed that courage to open up and do something about the things that were tormenting him. He needed to admit he was ill, admit he was an addict and take responsibility for his actions.

I don’t know what made my father turn to drink, but what I do know is that it’s shaped me in more ways than I could ever imagine. My father will continue to be the biggest influence in my life; he’s shown me what not to do when it comes to living on this Earth.

A Lifetime Hangover

People see alcohol addiction as something you can just stop. Like, you wake up one day and decide you’re not going to drink anymore. That you choose to bring down the people you love alongside you. My dad did choose drink, but I doubt he thought it would ever be the reason why he no longer shares this Earth with me or why sometimes, I cry myself to sleep at night.

Alcohol, for me, will always be the main reason why I cry on Father’s Day, why I feel a little jealous when I see people walking down the street hand-in-hand with their dads. Alcoholism is always going to be the reason why I’ve spent the last 23 birthdays without him. Whether he was out at the pub or whether they’ve been spent without him even living, alcohol addiction is always going to be the reason for his absence.

Alcohol is all well and good in small quantities, just please don’t let it take over your life like my father did. If you’re drifting off course, there is help out there and more so; there are people like me that wish you’d just speak out and get help before it’s too late. Don’t let anyone else go through this lifetime hungover like I am.

Help Is Out There

If you are worried about any issues relating to alcohol abuse, be it a family member, a friend, or yourself, then there are organisations out there that can help:

Dan 24/7

Wales Drug and Alcohol Helpline. Free and bilingual helpline giving further information or help relating to drugs or alcohol.
Freephone: 0808 808 2234
Text: DAN to 81066

Alcoholics Anonymous

Groups of people sharing their experiences, strengths and hopes to help others recover from alcoholism. Helping people to stay sober and helping others achieve sobriety.
Freephone: 0800 9177 650

Cruse Bereavement Care Wales

Somewhere to turn when someone dies. Free and confidential services provided by trained volunteers.
Freephone: 0808 808 1677

Live Fear Free

Information and advice for those suffering with domestic abuse, sexual violence and other form of violence against women.
Freephone:  0808 801 0800


Advice and support for those experiencing mental health problems.
Mind Infoline: 0300 123 3393
Text: 86463


Someone on your side. Helpline service for children and young people up to 25 in Wales.
Freephone: 0808 80 23456
Text: 84001
Online chat:

FamilyPoint Helpline

If you feel you need to talk to someone about this issue or any other problems your family is having then call our advisors on the FamilyPoint Cymru helpline. The helpline is open 9am – 5pm Monday to Friday. They can help you to find organisations that can help.

If you liked this article there are lots more articles in our Magazine section. Here are a selection of them:

A Problem Shared: My Teenage Son Drinks

Talking To Your Child About Bereavement & Grief

Give Feedback In Our Vouchers Draw

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