A split family could result in a distorted childhood and eventually a destroyed adulthood. The divorce of one’s parents hits any individual the hardest. Seeing people who one considered to be caring and respectful towards each other, who seemed to have so much in common and to be so deeply in love turning into the worst enemies is always too much to handle for any child or teenager for that matter. The divorce of my parents almost made me a miserable teenager, an alcoholic and a drug addict of any substance that would make me drift from reality.
While I was growing up, my parents appeared to be the best of friends. Every child envied me, and they believed that if that was what they called true love, then we all hoped that we would find a person who would complete us all like my father and mother did. It was a fairy tale, a soap opera in reality and a fantasy that everyone would cherish and secretly be jealous of. Two people who were purposely created for one another to make each other happy turned out to be my parents. My childhood was perfect, but fifteen years of my perfect live were shattered in a month’s time, when my father lost the second most important thing in his life after my mother, his job.
Losing his marketing job was possibly the worst thing that happened to my dad. He did not have to put us through what we went through. After losing his job, my father turned into the worst monster that ever walked the surface of the earth. Once faithful monogamist transformed into a spendthrift who ran through his life savings like a wild fire in the savannah. Having become jobless, my father would dress up as usual, drive his car off as if he was going to work. However, his once lucrative job had changed into a boozing adventure that led him into serial promiscuity.
None of us knew that my father was being unemployed for two years, not even my mother. She had always entrusted my dad in managing all our finances since he was so good. We always used to think that even if our parents, God forbid, died, we would not suffer a day from financial strain. We had never anticipated what would soon befall us. Furthermore, we always believed that money was never going to be an issue in our family, and to add salt to injury, we had never seen a day that my father would ever hurt my mother.
My parents’ divorce was not a normal divorce everyone encounters. My once sober mother had become an alcoholic who would not spend a day living in the brutal reality that her fantasy had become and neither could we. My sister and I were not that strong either. After she turned eighteen and could access her trust fund that our grandparents had left us, she shared her legacy with me before she...