#booth a child of an alcoholic abusive father fearing for his own parenting skills | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xofaddiction · 3 years

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𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 𝒹𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒

full name: tirzah mizrahi

nicknames: zah, zahzah, bunny

age: 30

date of birth: november 1

zodiac: scorpio

gender: female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: pan

physical

hair color: dark brown

eye color: hazel

height: 5′3″

weight: 115 lbs

personality

morality: chaotic neutral

positive traits: compassionate, honorable, charming, gentle, strong, lighthearted.

negative traits: distant, stubborn, callous, temperamental, suspicious, cold.

job: freelance escort

skills: adaptable, artistic, creative

family

parents: adam and rivka mizrahi (deceased)

sibling: myriam mizrahi

backstory and details - ＴＲＩＧＧＥＲＷＡＲＮＩＮＧ : mentions of cancer, death, alcohol, abuse & drug usage

✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴ ✴

Her upbringing was nothing short of mundane. When her sister came along, the monotony continued; A family of 4 who went about their normal lives and supped together every night lived in a quiet kind of bliss. It remained so, until the cool autumn evening when Tirzah’s mother lost her appetite. According to doctors, by that time the cancer was already so bad she’d only have a couple of weeks. In a perfect world Tirzah would have had a million moments left with her mother: gushing over first kisses, crying over first heartbreaks, filling out college applications, prom photos, graduation, graduation, wedding, baby- whatever it be, the experiences were lined up. However, no world is perfect, especially not a rotted one like this. Those few weeks passed too quickly for a ten year old girl who had a lifetime yet to live. Her mother died Devil’s Night, two days before Tirzah was set to turn eleven. The mundane little family was decimated, buried beneath the ash of the eruption that shook their world. The world kept turning, but not for them. It didn’t take long for their suburban complacency to change. In a matter of months, the now single father plucked his children from their cozy Winnetka home and right into some inner city 2 bedroom setup. It didn’t take long for her to become the parent her sister needed; the toddler-aged girl had no mother and their father was grief-struck and distant, more so than he’d ever been. She was a child raising a child, alone and wallowing in her grief. Tirzah hadn’t noticed anything amiss until she was almost thirteen; when her mother’s jewelry started to disappear. Beautiful gold and jeweled pieces that, with each passing day, diminished in number. She interrogated her four year old sister and reminded her of the rules of dress-up, though it made no impact. Stirring late at night from a dryness in her throat, Tirzah spotted the real thief; her own father tucking a set of diamond and white gold earrings into the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. Late into her thirteenth year, she noticed the rancid smell of liquor steeped sweat that lingered on the laundry she did. She noticed the crushed cans in the bed of her father’s truck. The newspaper with red sharpie marking sports pages from top to bottom, notes scribbled in the margins. The years passed sluggishly by; she was doing too much and could not do enough to fix what was broken. Money squandered on gambling and liquor didn’t leave much in the way of survival for the girls. Tirzah fought as hard as she could at every turn, trying to do anything to snap her father out of it, but it never had a positive outcome. Most verbal fights came to blows between herself and her father. It was in her nature to respect him, but the moment he raised a fist, she raised her own, no matter how much smaller and weaker she was in comparison. Stealing her resolve, Tirzah did what she needed to do: drop out of high school at the age of sixteen. The bottom line was- they needed to live. Eight hours spent away from home was welcome, but it was too much time wasted. Rumors spread as to why: pregnancy, elopement, illness, some strange combination of all three. The truth was: she had to support herself and her little sister. In place of school, she got a full-time job serving at a little diner in town. The pay was low, but tips were good as the food was greasy. Still not a perfect world, it was the best a high school drop out could manage. She started serving and worked her way up to manager a few years in. Co-workers came and went, times changed and presidents didn’t change shit except their rhetoric, passive patrons of Chicago became dear, protective friends she held in high regard. But the diner wasn’t enough. She picked up another job during the evening as an elderly neighbor’s caretaker. Tirzah was always gentle and kind with the woman, always interested in her stories and her life, happy to be there. Part of her felt bad that she had only begun speaking to the woman for the sake of financial gain, but she was happy to have gotten to know her at all. When the woman died, she left Tirzah the remnants of her estate: there wasn’t much, but it was a good little nest egg to set aside. Without the second job, Tirzah got hired on as a sometimes stripper at a seedy little club that misused her for all she was worth. She was still so young, still barely allowed to do much more than try to survive in a world that wouldn’t value her lack of education. Tirzah was a child unable to ever experience a childhood, she buried herself in work and parenting. Like most people, she clung to vices that offered temporary comfort, especially during the typical young-adult party phase. She drank, she smoked, she swallowed pills like candy and snorted things that shouldn’t be snorted. Partying without abandon, sleep was few and far between. She worked all day, parented a few hours at night, then worked the rest of it, partied when she could and took uppers to keep herself going, only to repeat the cycle over and over. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, yet expecting a different outcome. A turning point came the day she dropped of exhaustion in the middle of the diner. No one was aware of the drugs she was taking, or of the amounts she consumed, but they knew how hard she worked. Doctors at the hospital chastised her, people at work pitied her, her sister worried ceaselessly. Thankfully, it was a wake up call; she slowed her usage gradually until she grew out of it altogether; one of her biggest fears was turning into her father, growing as weak and dependent as he was. And Tirzah had managed to thwart it.

As if by some cruel trick of fate, Devil’s Night of 2016 came, and ended in another death. Her father, deeply indebted to local bookies, had been capped by someone all too eager to take the job. Tirzah was in the diner, cataloging necessities for the next restock of supplies when two police officers came in and shared the news. She wanted to be upset, wanted to hurt, but she knew why he was dead and why she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was numb to the loss, in a way she hadn’t been when her mother had gone. Her father was a stranger, and his murder his own fault. In many ways, she lost her father the same year she lost her mother. He was gone, body turned to ash and kept in a little box in the trunk of her barely-running car. All that mattered was keeping her little sister safe. Thankfully, the kid was away at school in another state, and fate answered from a late-night interaction at the ramshackle diner.

An older woman, dressed in a designer cream-colored power suit, laced in pearls and diamonds looking for all the world like a politician took her place at a burgundy booth. She called herself Caroline, came in for a coffee, she claimed, but left TIrzah with a possibility: sell fantasy, charge thousands, live comfortably. Like any little girl, Tirzah once dreamed of grandeur; princess, rock star, mermaid. She never wagered the final would be the nearest she’d get; a siren beckoning men to her bosom. Whiskey on the rocks in a smoky bar, Tirzah drank as she gnawed over the offer, the idea masticating in the jaws of her mind. She thought it was a good idea; she needed a break after working so hard over half her life, but she didn’t want to be under anyone’s thumb. When she returned home that night, she set up a website to sell herself. Business came slowly at first, but soon her reputation spread throughout society and she made a wage that helped make living worth it. Now working out of GENESIS and the website, Tirzah makes money aplenty; enough to keep herself afloat, enough to support her sister, enough to be free for the first time in her life.

#&&. tirzah || intro #&&. tirzah || visage #&&. tirzah || memes #&&. tirzah || playlist #&&. tirzah || isms #i think that might be all i have for a tag dump #crimson.intro #&&. trigger warning #death tw #cancer tw #alcohol usage tw #drug usage tw #i think i tagged everything

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