Stranger at Home

1995

As much as 1994 was a blackout to me, New Year's Day of 1995 was a memorable one. I had been to see my three children on Christmas Day and Boxing Day, bringing them presents both times. They were pleased to see me, but Karen was still wary of me.

"There's nothing to worry about, you know", I told her. "I'm not going to hurt any of you".

"I know that, Jeremy", she told me, "but you won't change your ways. You'll continue to drink and put yourself first, and I don't think you can see how much grief you're bringing this family. Or maybe you do see it, but you just don't care".

I did not see them again until the New Year, as Karen had warned me to keep my distance. When I sorted myself out properly, she told me on Christmas Day, things will be different, but until that day, she would leave me on my own to wallow in my own selfishness and dig my own grave.

I was still drunk at ten o'clock on the morning of New Year's Day. I had not moved from my bed since hours before, having stayed out until four in the morning with some old work mates. I believed that they were my friends, but now I know that anyone who encourages an alcoholic to drink is not really a friend. They were vaguely aware that I had a huge drink problem, but they did not care about that.

I received a knock at the door, waited a while for whoever it was to go away, and when they persisted, I realised that they were not going to go away. I eventually stumbled out of bed and answered it, not in any mood to interact with anyone. I was shocked to see that Karen's parents, Margaret and Joe, were stood in my doorway.

"Can we come in, Jeremy?" Margaret asked. It was a rhetorical question, of course.

They took a look around my flat and seemed pleasantly surprised that I had been keeping it reasonably clean. They caught me at a good time, because the flat was not normally that orderly. There were a few cans and bottles here and there, but other than that, there was not much mess. I think that sometimes, in my drunken escapades, I cleaned up all the mess that I had made – my drunken self felt uncomfortable knowing that I was surrounded in squalor.

"I know this is probably a surprise to you that we're here, Jeremy", Margaret said, her face showing a devastated expression that indicated to me that she really did not want to be here, "but we've come to intervene. Your marriage has broken down, but it can be picked up again".

"If you get your act together", Joe put in.

"I've been trying my best..." I started. I thought I was about to vomit there and then, but luckily, I did not. I was not ready to show myself up in front of my in-laws. There was still that shame inside of me somewhere.

"Just listen to us", Margaret said, interrupting me and putting her hand up to stop me from speaking. "We hear things about you, and you're not trying at all. You still look drunk now, even, but listen to us. You'll lose Karen and those kids. She's had it up to here with you".

She raised her hand to the top of her head to emphasise how frustrated Karen was with me. Margaret certainly liked to express herself.

"Karen has given you chance after chance", she continued. "We all like you, Jeremy, but you're pissing us off now. We accept that you've had a lot to deal with in your life, more than most, but drink is not the answer. Now, we suggest you go to AA meetings in Newcastle. They're very good – Joe had a friend who was an alcoholic, and he started going there. He's been sober for years now".

"Five years, he's been sober", Joe added, nodding his head enthusiastically.

"See – it works. You need to do this, or this is the end of any relationship you have with your family", Margaret said.