The Follow Up

I've probably left it a little too long for this to be humorous, and the majority of you have possibly forgotten now, but here goes.

My last post lamented and predicted my possible future alcoholism. A life of misery and hopelessness. A never ending cycle of dejection and rejection, turning from face to face and never receiving a shimmer of hope.
It was all tongue in cheek of course. I am not resigning myself to a life of Scrouge quite yet. I am 18 years old and I have a future to plan and work for.
I am a highly ambitious individual. I imagine fast cars and expensive drinks and penthouse apartments, and I will do anything to realise those dreams. Ever since I was a little boy I have longed to send my family off on holiday, buy everyone a house, make sure that they are all happy and comfortable. For my mother, that is the least she is owed. We do not always get on, but sometimes the most similar of personalities just do not connect. She is as stubborn, as hard-working, as driven, as committed, as ruthless, as intuitive and as cunning as I am. And thus over the years the similarities between us have been the cause of our drift.
But she's put up with my mood swings and my callls home from school, and my recklessness and short temper, my low self esteem and offhandedness, my unsympathetic, cold personality. She, has for 18 years been the one person to fully put up with all my mistakes and wrong doings. The one person that for one hour can be so uncontrollably angry at me, then the next understand that I am only human and will teach me lessons that will prove invaluable.
And so it is for my mother that I will never become an alcoholic. She put up with my fathers pill-popping, whisky necking and reckless spending. And I promised to my mother that I will never be like him.

I have dreams and ambitions of making it big. Every spare moment I have I write music and learn all I can that one day I will go to an estate agent and buy my mother a house.
It is all for me and all for her.

For the sake of creativity I envisaged a life of alcoholism and depression.

That is not my mother and thus it is not and will not be me.

So one day I can sit back in my recording studio and it will be all down to my mothers patience and encouragement that I made it there alive.

I may not make it big, but I will still owe everything to her.

Welcome to the Family