My Story
1. Family background My Dad was from Canada. He was an alcoholic, always seemed to be angry, and verbally abusive primarily to Mum, but also my sister and I. One year I was asked what I wanted for Christmas, and I said, “One day where Mum and Dad don’t shout.” Every night he would drink and after dinner he would start shouting, mainly at my Mum, but if my sister or I would talk with him, we’d get shouted at too. So I learned to hide in my bedroom and did my schoolwork. I have no memory of him ever saying he loved me. I know many fathers of this generation didn’t, but his actions didn’t show it either. He didn’t spend time with me, he showed no physical affection, no wrestling, no hugging, he paid me no attention, gave no praise and showed no trust. Dad didn't even seem to like being around me. Dad was physically present, but distant. He didn’t raise me. It seemed he couldn’t be bothered or care about me at all. He would only want to spend time with me so I could help him with a pro...