Daddy will get better, I'd tell myself every day. But each day got worst. More distructive. Living with an alcoholic has not been an easy ride for me and my family for the past five years. One day their good, and then suddenly everything explodes. I've been calling myself the peace keeper. I try to support each side of an argument but, when both adults are blistering mad and about to throw down, there's not much you can do.

I also call myself the goalie, because when things go down i'm the one to throw myself into the fire first. I block unwanted blows and words cut my skin like razors. But even though the fights really are disturbing, the worst part about living with an alcoholic is the fear.

The fear of never knowing when they'll slip up and drown themselves in beer. The sick feeling in your gut that you'll be woken up in the middle of the night by a screaming, incoherent man. Or the worst, most dredful feeling where you'll be told by that drunk person that you don't matter to them.

When they tell you they don't love you.

This horrible disease not only hurts the one doing the drinking, but it destroys the family around it. you're drinking because you think you have every right to. You're drinking because you can't handle life, or your bills, and you decide to scream at your children.

Parents love their children, protect them when they're scared, and understand when they're confused.

Love your children, don't abuse them.