This is the tale of my childhood and my dads transformation into an alcoholic. I was born the fourth child in a family of seven siblings. Growing up in Davao, ours was a story of joy and abundance. We lived on the very confines of comfort enjoying playtime in the serene countryside.
One fateful night it all took a dip for the worst. My mother was in the kitchen making dinner while my father was assisting us with homework. All of a sudden, we heard loud sudden explosions and we fell to the floor in panic. The gunfire from a rifle was so scary that we all thought we would meet our demise. My father instructed us to crawl to the secret passageway that opened into the tunnels. We spent the scary night inside the confines of a cold cave.
The next morning my dad went to see the house and the damage on it was really bad. The bullets impact was huge especially on the second floor where the bedroom was. My mom and dad decided that we should permanently move to a safer place and leave everything behind. It was a hard decision considering the fact that we were leaving behind an amazing home We moved to my mothers clan and that is the day my life changed tremendously.
In own our household, we never ate corn grits and always enjoyed the delicious tastes of exotic foods such as rice. In stark contrast to this, in my great aunt and uncles house, the food was deplorable and utterly non-palatable. The meal comprised mainly of corn grits that felt as hard as sand paper and dried anchovies. What was even worse is the emotional toll it took on everyone in my family, we became distant. My parents were always arguing and most of the time were unavailable to us. I remember setting the table in a somber mood with tears flowing down my cheeks
We had to start all over again with rebuilding our lives together. The main problem however, was that my moms family disapproved of my father and did not hide their dislike of him. From the onset of the marriage, they were against the young love. Following her hearts desire, my mum ran away to be with my father. Her wealthy family resolved that they would not share any part of the fortune with her. I had too many burning questions that I never understood due to my tender age. Nevertheless, one thing was clear as day to me; my family was already destroyed and it was too late.
Due to the resultant pressure and stress, my dad became an alcoholic and started smoking cigars. Whenever he spoke, he chuckled, had a hiccup and slurred in his speech. Most of the crystal-clear memories of my childhood were of my father yelling and mumbling while he was intoxicated. Even my mom was sucked into the vice of drinking and smoking cigars. In comparison, however, my dad was way too deep into drinking and smoking. I saw him act like an idiot on several occasions. Sometimes he would say things that were utterly regrettable. Often, he would get too close to us and we became so scared and afraid that he might hurt us. As a consequence of my dads habit of drinking and smoking, he equivocally stated that he did not care about us at all. It was no surprise when my elder sister and brother ran away from home. It is heartbreaking that I have never seen them since I was eight years old.
When I saw the effects that alcohol had on my father, being hammered, wasted, and plastered, I became a fierce critic of alcohol. I questioned myself about the contents of alcohol, but the answer never presented itself to me. My biggest worry in life was that I would like wine or alcohol and turn into an alcoholic like my father. The thought of becoming one of those inebriated people mumbling stupid things like my dad made me shiver.
Once I was at a party and all of my friends decided to drink and soon enough they were a little bit flamboyant. However, I desired to gain answers to a question I always asked myself. My friends asked me to have a sip of liquor and once I did, it tasted offensive, unpleasant and foul. Its description in my head was just despicable, it tasted like dry mustard and mushroom, almost earthy. Its effects on me were astonishing, all of my worries and inhibitions were immediately expelled; this stuff was extremely disgusting.
During my earlier days, I really thought that I would like it and afterwards would have to force myself not to drink. I was shocked at the resultant disappointment and failed expectations. But it tasted like rotten fruit mixed with old leather, smelled like a blend of nail polish remover and gasoline. It gave me absolutely no desire to drink or get anywhere close to getting drunk.
As my friends began to drink, I saw them act like idiots. They would giggle at things that were not funny, stumble around, and generally make fools of themselves. I did not need nor want the care-free feeling it offered. I was already secure, inhibition free, happy, unstressed, and had enough great friends to prevent me from being lonely or bored. What could I possibly gain from alcohol?
I will never partake of alcohol or even use drugs. There is too much risk at stake yet the benefits derived are not even commensurate. Worse still, it could damage my relationship with my family. I also have a deep conviction that I am one of the few who are strong enough to resist the temptations and allures of alcohol. Life is short and precious so I know direction to follow..
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