I decided to dedicate this post to the subject ALCOHOL, seeing as it's Alcohol Awareness Week this week.

Alcohol (Ethanol) is a psychoactive recreational drug and I think that many of us forget that, the fact that it is a drug that affects our brains and our bodies. It's been used as a social past time for thousands of years throughout the world and it's accepted by most of us.


Alcohol have always had a very high priority in my family. A lot of times it was even prioritised over me and my brother's psychological welfare and it’s always been a somewhat sensitive subject to me. I'd consider alcohol to be the major reason behind most fights I've had with my family and friends.


I have two complete different views on my parent’s alcohol consumption. I only ever spent every second weekend in my father’s place, the rest I was living with my mother. I can’t remember my father drinking on the weekends I spent with him when I was very young. We’d always do things, go places. As we got older though, he and my then stepmother would consume alcohol. There were often fights between them when they were drunk, which is always unpleasant for other people, especially children. I used to dislike it when my father was drinking, it wasn’t unusual that he’d get frustrated and a bit aggressive, but sometimes we had great fun too. It completely depended on his mood.

I think that my father has “calmed down” a lot growing older, at least when I’m around. We have a much better understanding now when I’m older. I don’t mind my father drinking or even drinking together with my father. We get along great and we’ve become a lot better on communicating since when I was younger.


It’s been the complete opposite with my mother, I used to always be OK with her drinking and her having friends over and such. They were funny to hang around with and it didn’t feel like my mother changed too much when she was drunk, she’d just be happier. It’s only as I got a bit older that I understood that she was drinking quite often and that she would prioritise buying alcohol over other things for us kids sometimes. I wasn’t moved too much by it though, I was still happy.

When I was a teenager and had started drinking myself I was often partying with my mother, which I thought was fun. None of my friends were doing that and they all loved hanging around with my mother. We had a lot of fun together. My mother later went to rehab for her drinking and this is where it all changed in my eyes.

After rehab, she stayed sober for a while, but eventually she started drinking again – not as often, but her thoughts on her drinking was now completely changed, which in turn, I think, changed her. I think this is where I really started to fight my mother over alcohol. We’d fight every time she was drinking, or even consider drinking. We still do to this very day.


What makes me so sad about this whole thing is that my mother sometimes think I don’t love her, which is as wrong as it could get. I love my mother incredibly much, I love my mother when she’s sober, not when she’s drinking. I don’t see her as the same person after she’s been drinking. She’s then no longer my mother to me. I know it sounds very harsh but that’s how I feel about it. I’ve tried to explain this to her, but I haven’t been able to do so without her getting upset, which is understandable, but it’s also something that’s very important for me to say to her.


Growing up with two drinking parents surely has affected both myself and my (older) brother. He decided to stay away from alcohol most of his life, he only recently started drinking. It has also affected how I drink alcohol, I used to be afraid of becoming like them when I got drunk, so I did everything in my power to control that wouldn't happen.

Nothing, alcohol or no alcohol, changes the fact that I love both my parents incredibly much. I wouldn’t want to change them or my childhood for anything in the world. If anything, it made me stronger and more understanding. It made me grow up a bit faster but I’m happy I did. It just made me more secure in myself earlier in life.

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Look inside, on my inside, from my point-of-view. I look different in this light.

I think that it's only fair to start this kind of journey at myself, to use myself as a start point in all of this. But how do I even begin? To describe oneself is extremely difficult but I'm going to try my best.

I notice everything. I hear everything. I remember every word and look. Just because I don't react doesn't mean I didn't hear or see. What I’m an expert at is taking those words to myself, my inside, and repeat them quietly to myself. Some things stay longer than other. Some things have been there for as long as I can remember, some were added recently. Most of the time all this is kept there, inside me. It never makes it out, it never gets to see the light again. Until now, hopefully.

I know I'm not alone in this, but I've always lived my life to rather show strength than my weakness. It's been my number one defence mechanism, my way to survive. What people might not know is that I'm extremely sensitive, very emotional, but I've thought myself to be good at hiding it.

While it's sad that I've kept things, that really hurt me, to myself my entire life rather than talked about them it has helped me to become stronger. I've learned to be stronger by being bad to myself, by not being honest to myself and my emotions. Years of self-destruct has had a healing effect.

I've always tried my best to keep my guard up, try to show myself as tough but I'm afraid that was all an act. That tough kid in school who never cried, never got hurt - she cried when she came home and when she was alone with her own thoughts and emotions. She then put the mask back on, kept the act up.

I've always been my own best friend and my own worst enemy. I always find a way to lead something back to me. I blame myself for a lot of things, sometimes rightfully so, sometimes not. I'm not saying that I've been an angel my entire life. There's been moments in my life of shitty judgement where I've acted out on my feelings and hurt other people along the way. To everyone that I've hurt in my life - I'm truly sorry, you can blame me and be angry with me for that. But believe me, I have beaten myself up over that. I always do.

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It is really difficult to try and remember the very first memory of your existence. I've been trying for a while but I cannot find anything. I sure have memories from when I was a child, but those are memories that I have played in my head over and over again since the event occurred.

It has been proven that our memories, as we remember them, are not always a true representation of the real life event that we once experienced. Our minds is like a .jpeg file being compressed every time we save it. For people who do not understand that reference - what I'm trying to say is that our memories gets compressed (and even edited) every time we think back on them.

Another relatable metaphor would be the game called 'Chinese whispers'/'Telephone'. If you have ever played this game you know what I'm referring to. The original message gets edited, compressed or ends up a complete different one once it reach the last person in the circle (in our case our minds).

Sometimes it goes so far that 'our memories' aren't OUR memories at all. They're someone else's edited and compressed memories imprinted on you.

With the above said, I'd like for you all to keep this in mind when I tell you about my memories. The thoughts and emotions from my past events are mine completely and no one else can take them away from me. However, the details of actual events could have been perceived completely different by other parties and everyone might not agree with said storytelling.

Let us begin.

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