Tribulations
He always loved his gin in the morning, noon, and night; it came to him like water and it was impossible for him to leave home without it. No one could ever sway him from his essential life fluid. It wouldn't matter whether you cried, pleaded, or begged on your two knees, he would not stop. He only started to drink this much when he was 35 and I was about 9 at the time, no one could explain this drastic change in him. Before, he used to drink often but now, it's just crazy how much he drinks. Also, when he did this he stayed more to himself than usual. His routine was mapped the same way day after day- go to work, come home, drink, eat, and sleep. Talking became alien to us because my mom and I was angry at him for not wanting to take care of himself better and he was angry with us for putting so much pressure on him to find out what's wrong. Anyone was lucky if they see a smile on our faces at any point because there were barely any happy moments and there was constant fighting. Arguments took over any type of talking we had to have with each other. After a while, it didn't matter if we tried to talk because it seemed as if we all fixed our schedules so we only had to spend as little time as possible with one another with the
He was awake when my mom came home from work and she figured out what happened as soon as she saw his face and without a word she walked back out the house. My reason for saying that is simply because he hasn't even made an effort to show some type of remorse of what he did. When he knew he loss a game, he kept playing that game until he won his opponent in Nintendo. We had no choice but to take him to the hospital, he didn't have much choice since he couldn't talk through his screams. Now, all you saw was sadness as if someone just killed her soul. But apparently, my father had no intentions on staying because when my mother and I came home from work the next day, we saw him lying on his bed nonchalantly watching television with a drink in his hand. She felt betrayed just like I did, he played us both for fools and I don't think he regrets it to this day. From what I know, he started to drink again after 3 months. My father knew about it before we did since he went for a checkup about over a year ago, and I guess it would explain why he pushed us so far from him and started to keep the bottle so close to him. Up to today, I don't think he still knows what he has done to me and my mom. Then came December 29th, 1991, he's been in the same condition over the year and grown worse. His skin color has gotten pale and his body weight dropped a drastic 43 pounds. My dad was a drunk but he was a drunk that was a fighter. Our doctor wanted to keep him there to try to help his symptoms and we acknowledged for the permission to keep him.
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