Archive for August, 2011


I realize it’s been quite some time since I’ve posted here.  That’s a big problem of mine:  once the thing that’s stressing me out is taken away, I no longer turn to things like this blog, or the Al-Anon meetings.  But back to that in a bit.

It has now been 2 months that my mother has been completely sober.  After that last trip to the hospital, she went back on anti-depressants and says she hasn’t even wanted alcohol since then.  Her behavior is no longer erratic, she doesn’t go into those mood swings she always used to have, and in general she’s just gone back to being a functional human being.

I can’t express to you how thinking about this makes me feel, but I’m sure you already understand.

Of course, I know this isn’t the end.  Alcoholism is a disease, and it’s not something a person can just cure and never go back to.  It’s only been 2 months, which in some ways seems like such a long time, but in others seems like hardly any time at all.  Every time she takes the car to do laundry or go shopping, there’s a part of me that worries she’s run over to the bar.  When she visits her friend, I wonder if they’re hanging out at her house or at a bar somewhere.  And I’ve told Mom that I worry about that, and she says she understands.

The difference in every aspect of her being is just amazing.  A few months ago, she looked like an feeble old woman hobbling around, with arms and legs that looked more like sticks.  Now she’s back to being vibrant and kind and I feel so blessed that she made it through.

Unfortunately, I guess her ex-boyfriend isn’t doing so well.  She realized that being around him was toxic to her, thank goodness, and left him, but he’s still drinking himself to death.  He’s allowing himself to be used by people who call themselves friends, including letting someone borrow his car…which was then broken into.  A few things, including his GPS, were stolen from it.

It’s not the loss of the items themselves that upsets me, it’s just what they represent.  I don’t know how to explain it, but I guess they just represent his vulnerability, in my mind.  He’s become such a feeble creature that the vultures have already started to circle and swoop in, and I do feel a bit heartbroken over it.  I guess that means I still have a few shreds of humanity left, under all this bitterness, if I can feel sorrow for a man who’s been such a jerk over the years.  It’s just…this is not the way for anyone to go.  I’ve said it before, but it really does feel like some kind of terminal illness, like cancer or Alzheimer’s where the person is just slowly and painfully fading away…except they have the power to stop this from happening, and they can’t see that.

Yet again, I feel so blessed that my mother straightened up on her own.  I have no idea how she did it or what inspired her to, but in the long run I guess that doesn’t matter.  I just pray every day that she’ll keep it up, and if it means that I have to buy the medication myself to keep her on it, I will happily do it.

As far as Al-Anon goes, I know it’s not the sort of thing you’re only supposed to go to when you’re down.  This is a…well, if not a lifelong process, it’s certainly something you’re probably supposed to stick with long-term.  The idea behind it is to teach coping skills, and two meetings are certainly not enough time to learn those!  There’s a lot of issues bubbling under the surface that I need to learn to deal with, but somehow I’m able to just push them all away and ignore them until something major happens and I fall apart.  That’s a whole other journal’s worth of stories, though, so I will end things here.

I don’t mean to make this sound like an ending to this journal, but thank you SO much to everyone who’s supported me through this.  Even though you weren’t able to be here with me physically, your words and your thoughts and your prayers have meant so much.  I love you.  ❤


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