Ok. I have stayed away from this thread, as I was not sure I would be able for it. However, I have read all the replies.
To answer some questions in relation to my father:
I never relied on him. I learned very early on that money was God to him and supporting his children through life was not the 'done thing'.
I emotionally relied on my brother. My brother is a doctor. He supported himself through uni and fought and battled his way to the top. He still continues to. I googled his name the other night and he is a professor. My brother, being a doctor and clearly being able to discuss this illness or addiction if you prefer, told me, that he had to take a step back from me. He has over the years taken a very big step back from me. But ultimately, it was him who rescued me from the streets (he happened to be over at a conference in London, so I guess it didn't cost him much). I try not to contact him.
I never asked for money from my father until I got a phonecall, 3 weeks into being homeless, for a job paying 140 a day. I begged him for money to just pay for a hostel for 2 nights ahead of interview and money for clothes for interview and transport to the interview and money for accomodation until first pay check. He declined.
Anyway, that is as much as I have to say about my father apart from to lol at the poster who stated that the most he would get out of my email was 'my sheep don't have fluke!'.
What galls me I suppose are the posters who say 'you decided to drink'. The ignorance in this simple statement is immeasurable. I can not express it with words. Let me just tell you, that every day, every minute, every second, I make a decision not to drink. Yet I do. Because I'm an alcoholic.
In terms of being left to die, when I got off the streets, I was diagnosed with bronchitis and pleurisy. Another week would possibly have seen me dead. There was no exaggeration there. Everything I owned was stolen off me. I couldn't receive benefits as all my paperwork was stolen.
Can I just say, an alcoholic treated with kindness is usually the epitome of humility and gratitude. Can I also say that while my craving for a drink would come first, I would give (literally), the hat off my head to someone who looked colder than me. In the homeless community (where I lived, it was only alcoholics - no drug users), the spirit of sharing was astounding. If one day, someone had alcohol, they shared it. Someone who had tobacco would share it. Someone who had food would share it.
In terms of the dangers I faced, apart from being robbed and propositioned, I was never physically attacked. The parks police were quite fond of me and checked that I was still alive every day.
I would love to say that I'm recovering. I'm not. I get off it, back on it, off it, back on it. What prompted my latest 'outburst' on here, was learning about the death of my brother's BIL. 29. An ex rugby player.
PS - as an aside - I have noticed a distinct difference in replies from parents of alcoholics and children of alcoholics. And, my love goes out to Zoe. I don't want to have to join Zoe.