A lot of those who use drugs or alcohol fail to realize the impact these substances have on the people that love and depend on them. Here is my story... My father was a Vietnam Vet and my mother grew up in Korea during the occupation and the Korean War. They both suffered sever PTSD and were both drinkers. When I was small it was not so bad. Their drinking did not become really bad until I was about 10. My father lost his job and went to Rehab, but it did not work. Within months after getting out he started to drink again. My mothers at this time was still not as bad as my fathers but she was drinking to. There was verbal, physical, and emotional abuse to go around. My parents were sleeping in separate rooms by the time I was 7. My father ended up in the hospital for something (not sure what) and ended up having multiple strokes due to withdrawal. His liver was pretty much gone at this point and because of the strokes, have his brain was gone also. He did not know who I was. Funny thing is, before he ended up in the hospital... the last words I said to him was I hated him and I wanted him dead. After years of being slapped around and dealing with him drinking, I finally snapped and fought back. Now I am left with those last words, I was 13 when he passed. My mother ended up in the hospital and I went to live with my aunt who used me like a slave until my mother came home. Her drinking got worse. We got a home of our own, and her drinking increased... the verbal abuse turned to physical at this point. I was 15 when this was happening. After having put up with this from my father though... I no longer would just take it. I fought back. At 16 I quit school, at 17 went to college in another state. That was the quickest way for me to escape. Instead... I got involved in drugs and alcohol and ran with the worse sort. I was neck deep in a world I should not have been in. Then my mother got sick... in a way, I think she saved my life. I walked away from it all without a second glance and returned home to take care of her. But her drinking had not changed. I would leave home for other places hoping to escape, but guilt at leaving my foreign widowed mother with no one to look out for her kept bringing me back. We would fight, she would go to the cops to try and have me arrested, then change her mind and take me home. I went through this until she died in 1999, I was 26. Now I am 40 and in my first real relationship going on 5 years and still refuse to get married to him as much as I love him. He was going drugs when we met. I told him me or the drugs, and he chose me. That's got to say something about a man. However, my past still effects me and I go into my own head at times. I suffer from PTSD and Bipolar disorder and battle with that every day. So for those who have children... before you take that next drink or drug, think about this story. This was the easy version. If I told it all... well lets just say I made it sound nicer then it really was. I hope this helps some of you to know why it is so important to get away from the stuff. Not just for yourselves, but for those you love to.