Perfectly Imperfect

The Fights

I would always stay up a while after my bed time because my mind was so full of thoughts. I would think about what it would be like to live a perfect life.  Not long after the thought crosses my mind i hear them yelling. Mom yelling at my dad for being drunk again and dad yelling at her to just shut up and leave his drinking out of it. This all started when i was just 8 years old. The fights made it hard to see both of my parents the same way i did before when they never fought. Listening, trying to find some part of peace in the fights, but there's nothing. Nothing to reassure me that everything will be alright, nothing to make me feel safe in the house that i live inside. Wishing that everything would just end right there and make peace with my parents. Some nights i would find my self in a worse mood than when i woke up that morning.

I fought with my mom and dad about simple things that probably should've been talked about instead of fought over. I never realized how stressed out my mom was because i thought my dad helped out. Dad was almost always gone and when he came back it was about one, two, or three in the morning. Some days it would be earlier or later than that. It was a lot to take in once i realized where he always was. He was at a bar near the closest town we live by. Mom knew where he was at those times but she never told us because she didn't want us to hate her because we thought that it was her fault. My mom has always watched out for us. 

Being a 10 year old and growing up with parents who fought a lot is not easy. But i managed to deal with it. It was not the easiest thing to do though. I never really talked to anyone about it even if it would have helped. I told myself that I was fine. Even if others told me that im not.