This book is dedicated to my father, whom I love so dearly.

Table of contents:

P.g 3: Personal narrative

P.g 21: Brochure

P.g 32: Poems

Personal narrative

       The smell of alcohol on his breathe could put a whole bar to shame. I would hide away in my room most nights to block out his slurred words. At first glance you would never expect me to have been through the things I have been through, but I guess everyone has their own past they aren’t particularly proud of. When I was younger I had big dreams. Dealing with alcoholism was not one of them. My name is Melissa and my father is an alcoholic.

 Growing up my father was at every sporting event, some he was even a coach for. He would be on the sidelines cheering me on to run faster as I circled the bases. It was during my sporting events that I would feel this sense of peace between my father and I. After the games would end, I knew my peace would be taken away. My father would open the front door and go straight to the refrigerator. Every time I heard the tab of a beer can break open its metal seal I would cringe. To this day, that noise still brings back such awful memories.   

I knew my parents’ marriage was falling apart when they began to sleep in separate rooms. I’m not entirely sure what started my father’s addiction. My mother was a loving and caring woman and I loved my father with every inch of my body. Was it his job? Was he unhappy? Was drinking an escape for him? I never understood why my father had to take his drinking to an extreme, but he did.    

I remember the night like it was yesterday; my grandparents were visiting from out of state for my birthday, my father had been drinking all day to drown out his mother’s nagging and I guess in his own way to celebrate my birthday. My father provoked an argument with my mother over complete non-sense and she fed into it. They argued back and forth with him telling her how much he hated her and wanted her to leave. Then it happened. My father lunged towards my mother with high hopes of taking her out and I had a front row seat. 

My strong-willed grandmother began screaming and pushing my father away. My hopes of my mother and father being happy again plummeted in a downward spiral. After the situation simmered down my mother and I went into my room and began crying. My mother looked at me with tear filled eyes and muttered five words I will never forget, “I can’t do this anymore.” I hugged her and told her she didn’t have to try anymore. My first thought after she had said those 5 words to me was “where will we go from here.” I knew my mother only stuck it out because I wanted her to. My mother was tired of the drinking and as much as I loved my dad, I was too. We needed an escape.    

After that night, my life changed forever. We moved in with my aunt, uncle and their three boys, where my mother and I shared a bed in a back room for a full year until we finally had our own place. It was hard seeing my mother struggle to support us both on her own. My father eventually lost the house where I had shared some of my best memories in, but also some of the worst. Like when my father would measure my friends and I on our kitchen wall and leave the marks for us to see each year how much we had grown or the painting’s on my wall from when my father had let my creativity soar. Those were some of the best things I could have left behind in that house. I did not hear for my father for about a year after he had lost the house. My father put me me through hell and back, it was one of the worst years of my life.    

Upon moving, I was asked by my mother to change high-schools. In complete denial, I accepted. I couldn’t put my mother through any more stress than she had already been through. At first it was tough. I was your typical girl from the movies, eating alone in the bathroom, hurrying to class so no one would see you, I guess you could say I was an outcast. But I stayed strong for all the years my mother had to stay strong for me.   

As the year went on nothing really changed. I had a few friends in some of my classes but no one to brag about. I started becoming depressed because of how lonely I had felt. My family life collapsed, money was tight, I had no friends, everything wasn’t going my way. Until one day when the announcements came on. “Cheerleading tryouts begin on Thursday, please bring clothes you are able to move in.” Was this finally my chance? Would I finally be able to fit in here?    

Fast forward...I had made the cheerleading team. My dream of becoming a varsity cheerleader had finally happened. In the process of tryouts, I had met one girl that would change my life for the better, Amy Moose. Amy would go on to help shape me into the person I am today and I didn’t even realize it yet.  

After tryouts were over my depression started getting a little better but I still had felt empty inside. I needed to fill this gap but I wasn’t quite sure what to fill it with. On one Monday morning, Amy had approached me during practice and asked me if I had ever heard about FCA. I had no idea what on earth FCA was all about, but I knew if it would gain me some friends, I was in. Amy explained that FCA was a Christian group of athletes that met every Thursday morning before school and that I should join her that Thursday. I excitedly accepted.    

After that year I had re-connected with my father. Drinking was still a big part of his life, but I had learned to love all of his flaws. Jesus calls for us to love another as he has loved us. I may not agree with my father’s choices, but I will still continue to try and lead him to the right ones.    

Brochure

Alcohol

“Ethanol especially when considered as the intoxicating agent in fermented and distilled liquors.” (Merriam-Webster)

Alcoholism

“An addiction to the consumption of alcoholic liquor or the mental illness and compulsive behaviour resulting from alcohol dependency.” (Merriam-Webster)

Origin of alcohol