Being the adult child of an alcoholic parent can be tough – especially over the Christmas period.

Alcohol is slowly destroying my dad’s health.  On top of the two small strokes he has had this year, the high blood pressure and his irregular heart beat, he now also has gout and a stomach ulcer.  And I have real worries about his mental health.

This Christmas my Dad want’s me to go to his house again.  But after what happened at Christmas last year I’m really not keen.  I know I won’t enjoy the day.  He’ll be drunk by midday, and possibly aggressive again.

But I honestly don’t have it in my heart not to go – and leave him on his own, or leave it to my brother and sister to deal with.

I think this is the weight of being the adult child of an alcoholic – you constantly feel guilty.  Guilty that you can’t help that person, guilty for feeling so angry with them.  Yes, there is part of me that doesn’t want to go there at Christmas – but that part of me also feels so guilty, after all, with the way that his health has deteriorated, this could be his last Christmas.

Alcoholism is an illness, and it doesn’t just affect the person who is an alcoholic.

We have been enjoying a lovely few days of snow here in London.  Lovely that is until this savage beast came bounding towards us through the snow swept plains…

This link was sent to me by a friend, and I just had to share it here.

I think you’ll agree that these are timeless classic’s – but oddly they just don’t make them like this anymore, and I don’t know why.

Bring back the retro jumper that’s what I say.

The Retro Knitting Company >>>

First it was the bathroom floor sinking with underfloor damp.  Then it was the leak from upstairs that put out the electricity in the bathroom and the hallway.  Then we were burgled, (and to date the landlord still hasn’t fixed the back window), and the latest calamity to befall our little flat…

MOULD

Chronic, nasty mould that has appeared in the last week, is progressing rapidly and is creeping up all of our outside walls.  Some of our books are ruined, as is the back of our cupboard and bookshelf where they are touching the wall.  It’s everywhere.  (We only realised it was as bad as it is when we looked behind our heavy furniture)

My landlord apparently “cannot help” so we won’t be “helping” him with the benefit of our rent.  Our tenancy agreement is up next month, so we are going to find somewhere else to live (outside of London I think) before our lungs turn into bacterial sponges.

First stop we do before we go though – our local authority environmental health department.