Do not force children to write such letters!
In all difficult, unsuccessful families children when parents quarrel most of all suffer, children when parents are angry worry, children when parents get divorced worry, children suffer. When parents suffer from alcoholic dependence, their children suffer from this alcoholic dependence even more strongly. Do not force children to write such letters!
You know, mum, seems to me, that you have provoked the father that it became such malicious. You constantly regretted yourself. Said, that it it is guilty that you became the alcoholic. Though both of us well know, that it is a lie. It really was the idler and the drunkard. But even then, when he has died, in you has changed nothing. After all together with his death the reason has disappeared, and you and further remained such what was. I understand, that is possible «подзалететь», I know, that you did not want the child. Only I already was also you could not get rid of me, but continued me to kill slowly, drinking being the pregnant woman, and then when I was still such small, left undressed...
I constantly was ill, because you badly looked for me. Your constant complaints, that I for you, as the weight standing so have painfully wounded me. After all you were for me the most light in a life. I at all do not know, why I so love you, to a pain. You saw it, saw also, that I worry about you, and it was pleasant to you. And when I have already matured and it was not necessary to be engaged in me, you could remain my friend. And I, naturally, yours. But you tried to dump on me all vital cargo, all poison that proceeded from you. But it was not possible to you. And for the certain moment you became my child.
Mum, to me it was very difficult. And besides, your infinite пьянки, circulations on brothels and drunkenness there. Unless you never thought, how I felt myself, finding you naked with any muzhik in a bed. Or as you came back after week бродяжничания without clothes, hungry, swelled up, dirty. Mummy, you on my eyes destroyed itself, and I looked at it and could not help you. You also did not allow to itself to help. When you have drunk метанол thought, that you will take away in hospital, will a little treat and will release.
Only earlier you never, mum, did not accept so much метанола. You have been exhausted by the drunkenness and have miscalculated. Of what thought, asking me to cause first aid? How much wished to lose a life? Mum, nobody thought, that you will die. To me at all did not allow to visit you in hospital. Throughout two weeks you died on a hospital cot, and I - at phone tube. When to me have told, that you already are not present in live, I felt in the dark empty tunnel, falling in a hole. Mum, remained emptiness, such huge... It is difficult To me to believe up to the end, that you already are not present, sometimes it seems to me, that, having come back home, I will find you there.
I know, that I should live own life... Only I... Unless someone can or something to fill the emptiness formed by you. Probably, time. But all has occurred so recently. It is heavy to live to one on light. It is heavy to come back in the empty house. To look at furniture, the things, which else recently were yours which you touched. Mum, you is necessary to me. You, my favourite, bitter parents, whether reflected you ever, that do, getting drunk to death.
I am afraid to get the family... And round me emptiness. There is nobody will already address: mum, the daddy, and it so is sick. Perhaps there will pass some more years and will be any more so bitterly.
I love you, mum...
Беата
You know, mum, seems to me, that you have provoked the father that it became such malicious. You constantly regretted yourself. Said, that it it is guilty that you became the alcoholic. Though both of us well know, that it is a lie. It really was the idler and the drunkard. But even then, when he has died, in you has changed nothing. After all together with his death the reason has disappeared, and you and further remained such what was. I understand, that is possible «подзалететь», I know, that you did not want the child. Only I already was also you could not get rid of me, but continued me to kill slowly, drinking being the pregnant woman, and then when I was still such small, left undressed...
I constantly was ill, because you badly looked for me. Your constant complaints, that I for you, as the weight standing so have painfully wounded me. After all you were for me the most light in a life. I at all do not know, why I so love you, to a pain. You saw it, saw also, that I worry about you, and it was pleasant to you. And when I have already matured and it was not necessary to be engaged in me, you could remain my friend. And I, naturally, yours. But you tried to dump on me all vital cargo, all poison that proceeded from you. But it was not possible to you. And for the certain moment you became my child.
Mum, to me it was very difficult. And besides, your infinite пьянки, circulations on brothels and drunkenness there. Unless you never thought, how I felt myself, finding you naked with any muzhik in a bed. Or as you came back after week бродяжничания without clothes, hungry, swelled up, dirty. Mummy, you on my eyes destroyed itself, and I looked at it and could not help you. You also did not allow to itself to help. When you have drunk метанол thought, that you will take away in hospital, will a little treat and will release.
Only earlier you never, mum, did not accept so much метанола. You have been exhausted by the drunkenness and have miscalculated. Of what thought, asking me to cause first aid? How much wished to lose a life? Mum, nobody thought, that you will die. To me at all did not allow to visit you in hospital. Throughout two weeks you died on a hospital cot, and I - at phone tube. When to me have told, that you already are not present in live, I felt in the dark empty tunnel, falling in a hole. Mum, remained emptiness, such huge... It is difficult To me to believe up to the end, that you already are not present, sometimes it seems to me, that, having come back home, I will find you there.
I know, that I should live own life... Only I... Unless someone can or something to fill the emptiness formed by you. Probably, time. But all has occurred so recently. It is heavy to live to one on light. It is heavy to come back in the empty house. To look at furniture, the things, which else recently were yours which you touched. Mum, you is necessary to me. You, my favourite, bitter parents, whether reflected you ever, that do, getting drunk to death.
I am afraid to get the family... And round me emptiness. There is nobody will already address: mum, the daddy, and it so is sick. Perhaps there will pass some more years and will be any more so bitterly.
I love you, mum...
Беата