I grew up constantly worring what the neighbors thought. I worried what family members and friends thought. I tried to hide his drinking and tried to cover up for it by making excuses for him. I knew most people knew that my Dad was an Alcoholic. It embarrassed me so bad. My Dad raised me. I chosse to live with him since my Mom cheated on my Dad. He raised me from when I was 8 years old unitl he died two months before I graduated from highschool. My two sisters lived with my Mom. My two sisters and I were together every weekend either at my Dad's house or at my Mom's house. One Sunday night, my Dad was supposed to take my sisters back to my Mom's house. My Dad was way too drunk to drive. So I had to call my Mom and tell her that Dad was "under the weather" and she needed to come and pick-up my sisters. I can't tell you how bad I felt about having to do that. I can still feel that like it was yesterday. My Mom loved to put my Dad down so, that was the last thing I wanted to do. To this day, I still worry way too much about what other people think of me.
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