1. Paddy gets a wake up visit. Part 1.


    Date: 5/27/2016, Categories: Exhibitionism, Author: WobieTide, Rating: 7, Source: LushStories

    I am a pensioner in my late sixties living in a modest three bedroom house in a small private estate on the Southern outskirts of Dublin, but at the time of the events I am about to relate I was living in a studio apartment on the second floor of a retirement home on the north side of the city. I am a solitary person by nature and could only take the other residents of the home in small doses, so I tended to avoid going down to the communal room to mix with them. They in their turn, never sought me out for inclusion in their company, so it was a mutually accepted antisocial standoff. My insular disposition could be attributed to the fact that I was reared in a very dysfunctional family. Both my parents were alcohol abusers and fought alternately, depending on circumstances, over the fact that they had drank all their money or that there wasn't enough money to go drinking. My siblings and I suffered no physical abuse, but the nonexistence of affection and compassion or ordered discipline in our formative years scarred each of us in his or her own different way. I have not seen or heard from my sister or three brothers since we buried our father more than twenty years ago! He died, as did my mother two years before him, from alcohol related illnesses! This neglectful upbringing impacted on me such that, by the time I reached my late teens, I was drinking heavily myself and my psychological and perhaps, genetic make-up, was such that, from the very day I started to drink I ...
    was on a slippery downward slope into alcohol dependence. I was considered by all who came to know me, even in those early years, to be a brooding introvert, best left to his own devices and by the time I reached my mid-twenties, I was diagnosed by one professional in the field of substance addiction, as a 'functioning alcoholic'. I was able to function enough to leave Ireland in nineteen sixty nine and go to London where I found work as a labourer on the building sites. It was a lonely existence, an endless round of working, drinking, sleeping and back to work the following day to perpetuate the miserable cycle. I consider myself to have been saved from this wretched existence and cured of the imprecation of alcohol abuse by a woman I met when I was thirty one, named Martha, whom I later married and who bore me two children. I intend to go into my life with my now deceased wife and my two children, from whom we had become estranged long before her death, in much more detail in other chapters where it will have more relevance. Suffice it to say for now that it was Martha's strength of character and her faith in her Catholic religion that rescued me and kept me on the straight and narrow for the following thirty years. She introduced me to God, instilled in me the importance of church attendance and prayer on a daily basis to keep the Devil's influence out of my life. I trod the path she'd hewn for me through the tangled undergrowth of alcohol temptation and sexual desire ...
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