Some things need to be said......even if it's to no-one.

Did you ever realize how much I adored you; worshipped you.

My heart; the one I always sought to please, the one who understood.
The one who always knew what to do and say; had all the answers.
The one I always turned to, listened to, admired.
The one that was always there and always would be.
My hero: the one man who I knew for certain would never hurt me. Always protect me and never let me down.

I never realized how much till that day; the day your heart failed.
When I got that phone call I thought my heart would stop too.
I remember sitting waiting during your surgery.
I felt like a child again; lost and afraid.
Afraid for you.
Afraid for them.
Afraid for me.
Facing the prospect of losing you I realized just how important you are in my life.
My anchor, my safety net, my best friend….without you I would be lost. I was afraid I would not be able to cope with the pain of you leaving.

You pulled through!

Where is that man now?

I’ve watched him disappear; consumed by his demons and the alcohol used to suppress them.

I don’t know what you remember about that week; I remember everything.
I remember the look in your eyes when you grabbed my hand and begged me to help you.

I promised I would and I meant it.

You sent us out; wanted to be alone. In no time you were ringing, demanding we bring you another bottle.

I found you on the floor. You swore and hurled insults. But you rolled over and the real you peaked out for a second, you mumbled
“I don’t know who I am anymore; I don’t understand what’s going on in my head. I need help”.
You curled into the foetal position and cried. I lay on the floor next to you, hugged you and cried with you….I felt my heart break. Do you remember that?

I did everything I could to help you; talked, shouted, pleaded.
I promised to go with you. You would agree.
You would change your mind and reach for the whiskey instead.


Then you threw me out, remember.
You decided everything was my fault. More abuse, more swearing, name calling; said I was no longer your daughter.
You kept ringing to remind me; incoherent, disturbing ranting!

I called every agency and authority I could think of while you veered between child-like sobbing, rampaging around swearing and hurling around hurtful words and suicide threats/attempts.
I tried to get them to section you, arrest you, anything so long as you were taken somewhere you would be safe.
They wouldn’t.

There was only one way that weekend could have ended.

I got your messages of apology from the hospital. You remember I sent one back saying that it didn’t matter; it was all okay but please accept the help offered.

How long was it…..2 hours after you left the hospital?
You had refused help again.

That is when my heart broke completely. I knew then I’d lost you.

I can’t help you anymore, you will not help yourself.
This eats away at me every day.

So we try not to look each other in the eye now, don’t we?
Too un-comfortable to say how we really feel….a polite façade now.
I know how you feel about that week, I can see it in your eyes; hurt and ashamed.
I guess you see the hurt and disappointment in mine, too.

I have no anchor; I just drift.

‘The one man who would never hurt me’ I was wrong. How can I believe in anyone now?

My world and everything it was based on pulled apart; the rug pulled from under me.
Like that trick where you pull out the tablecloth; except you’re shit at it and everything smashes.

Who do I turn to now?

Who has all the answers?

Sometimes I feel so angry with you.
I want to kick you up the arse, tell you to grow some balls, tell you how disappointed I am in you; that I thought you were stronger than this.

I want to ask why we are not enough; why don’t you love us enough to stop this.
I want to smack you till you realize what you are doing to yourself and us.



Sometimes I want to tell you to get on with it.
If you are intent on destroying yourself, if this is the way it will end then for fucks sake get it over with and let us out of this nightmare; let us grieve and move on.
Let me buy you a drink!

Then I hate myself for feeling that way.


Sometimes I wish you were dying of cancer or some similar disease;
you could still be my hero then.


Then I hate myself for feeling that way.



I love you but I can’t even say that to you anymore.