Paint instead

I grew up around alcoholics; my dad and all my brothers were, but back then we didn't use that fancy word --my sister and I simply called them drunks. I didn't complain about dad's drinking except on days when it took a long time for him to pass out, because that meant I had to hide longer in the corn field. And I never heard my mom complain either, because she was too busy having her anxiety attacks.
It's not fun living with an alcoholic, I know, but if you're in that situation right now and divorce is too costly, just stock up on colored pentel pens and invite your artistic friends over. Or even the neighborhood kids.





Then send him to pick up some milk the next morning. And make sure he doesn't pass by a mirror on his way out.

Photo source: latenightmistakes.com, People of Walmart