A dad given an ultimatum : Drugs or his child

 I give full permission for this to be posted. An anonymous guest post.

I was born on a cold Monday February Morning in dull London in 1964. As a baby I never quite knew how dismal my life would be. My mum was a lovely lady what I can remember. My Dad left even before I was born, I was told he didn’t want me and asked my mum to abort me but that day and age it was never heard of. Mum and Dad were never married so my mum was always looked down upon but she loved and didn’t care what people said or thought. For years my mum was a single parent and she took what life dealt her. She was constantly struggling trying to keep down 3 jobs whilst raising me and trying to keep her family together.  I had an older sister and a twin brother. Unfortunately my twin didn’t survive my sister helped bring me up and I adored her but life was to take a turn for the worse.

My mum went out with friends one night and the next day she arrived home smiling from ear to ear; obviously smitten. I was 8 and I knew she’d met a new Daddy as that’s what my sister told me and I trusted her 110%. Mum brought home Alan a week or so later and he seemed nice but I was very shy around him, I just sensed something was wrong.

What I remember of the next few years was of Alan moving in, my mum working and Alan and my sister taking care of me why mum worked. I didn’t feel as close to my sister as I was 3 years previously because she seemed to be hiding something but what I didn’t know but I was soon going to find out. Mum stopped working as much as she used to because she wasn’t well. She’d developed a few diseases although the only one that sticks in my mind is pneumonia because in the end that’s what she died of.  Before mum died she became severely ill and was on complete bedrest. It’s around that time I noticed my Step-Dad and sister getting a bit too friendly. I was to turn 11 a few months after I found them in bed together just before mum died. How could they be so heartless? I don’t know but I knew it was wrong but I had to keep it from my mum because I didn’t want her to die from the shock. I needed my mum more than ever die! And it was with my heart already breaking that the doctor announced mum had died! I was totally devastated!!

When I was 11 I had to go into court because my sister was only 17 and Alan obviously wasn’t my biolgical Dad which to me was a godsend because I wanted out and fast. I arrived at the care home for children and was disapointed because it wasn’t the place I thought it would be. I knew from the start that I was going to be hurt in some way. I started to hang around with the wrong crowd and soon got into drinking and taking drugs. I was just 11 and I knew no better, well I did but because of my Dad not wanting me, my mum dying and my sister being a whore I wasn’t bothered. I carried on regardless of the consequences. I went to prison a handful of times and still had not a care in the world. I had nobody left in my life that I gave a damn about.

When I was 15/16 I was transferred from London to Warrington because every care home in London refused to take me on because I was the black sheep and they didn’t want me bringing down their reputation so there was no other option. Why Warrington, I don’t know but I’m glad because there I met my first real girlfriend but she was after me for one thing and one thing only; a baby. I didn’t know this at the time but I fell for her hook line and sinker and a few months later she told me she was pregnant! I was over the moon but shocked when she told me that she’d used me so I felt useless. She stopped me going round and she stopped coming to me.. I never saw her again and was never allowed to see our baby girl.

A few years later when I was no longer living at the care home due to my age, I met my now wife. She was a godsend. She instantly fell for me and I for her. She moved me into her mums after a few weeks and her mum (may she RIP) was lovely and very welcoming towards me. In Feb 83 we had our first son but after a month of fighting for his life; he died. In Jan 84 we had our second son, May 86 we had our first daughter, June 87 our second daughter and Feb 89 our last in line. Although I loved my children and wife I was never on the straight and narrow and was forever getting into trouble but in 91 my wife gave me an ultimatum: me and our children or my old life. I decided it was time for a change and we moved to Wigan later that year and I/we looked forward to our future and since that day back in 91 I’ve been off the drugs. I still drink but I know when to stop. My wife saved me the day she walked into my life but saved me even more when she gave me an ultimatum. I’m glad I made the right decision and I’ve never lived to regret it.

I’m ashamed of my past and I’m ashamed to say that I put my wife and my young children (at the time) through hell. I’d sometimes disapear for weeks on end and I’d let her struggle bringing up the 4 children then I’d be in prison and she’d be there every day but at the time I felt I didn’t need her and couldn’t love her because everything I touched turn to dust or died but I know that time is a great healer and can make a person a better man; luckily I was one that chose to turn my life around.

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