All I can remember from before the divorce is just dad drinking all the time and mom and dad having lots of arguments and me finding any excuse to be out of the house at anytime.

I remember dad going into rehab a couple of times and falling off the wagon and just feeling like we were just going through the motions. I kept thinking, ‘This is not going to do any good. What’s the point? He doesn’t care.’ And then I was SO relieved when mom sat us down to tell us they were getting divorced. 

I remember this one time when we spent over night at one of mom’s friend’s house. Dad was really on a bender that night or something and mom decided to get us out of there and I think she filed for divorce at that time.

I remember dad calling in tears and saying to me, “Is this what you want?” Well, I was pissed off and probably said, “Yeah!” All I felt was relieved that this was going to be behind me and we wouldn’t have to watch him slowly kill himself. I was too much of a self absorbed teenager to be supportive at that time. I am so glad that I have reconciled with him since then.

I don’t remember a lot of specifics about the actual divorce. I don’t recall the during.

For a long time I felt rather put upon that I had to go see dad. Mom would guilt me to go see dad. She’d say, “Well your sister really wants to see him and doesn’t feel comfortable going on her own.” I remember being kind of bastard about it. I would get him to take us to movies or to buy me books. 

I remember this… it has little to do with divorce but a lot about transition between the first and second marriage. Most of the time, mom was just a bitch about meeting him half way. Dad only wanted to see us if mom would drive halfway to where he lived. And I thought ‘If he wants to see us, just come and see us.’ 

I remember this one time when mom said, “Your dad wants me to meet him halfway. And I can’t do that. You need to find a ride down there.” I replied, “I don’t want to fucking find a ride down there. I don’t need to see him.” This went round and round for a while. Then she said, “Fine, but I’m having my boyfriend here this weekend.”

“Who cares?” I said. Part of it was just her not wanting to drive down there on principle, but she also wanted us out the house so she could have him over. 

The next week after that she sat us down and said, “I got to talk to you guys… well I’m moving my boyfriend in. How do you feel about that?”“Obviously that doesn’t matter. If I tell you I don’t want him in the house it is not going to change anything.”

So anyway the whole incident just was part of the games they played, the ultimate example of them playing their stupid games with us in the middle.