I Dread the Nights

I decided a long time ago to never touch a drop of alcohol ever again. I've kept that promise and it's been at least 12 years since I've had any alcohol. I made this vow not because of my drinking history. I really don't have a drinking history. Yeah, I drank a little bit when I was younger, but I can only recall 2 times where I was drunk. Drinking never appealed to me and I didn't like to be drunk because I was not in control of my life. I made that vow to never drink again because for as long as I can remember I've been around alcoholics. My grandfather, my father, & my mother. Granted I wasn't around my mom a lot growing up. But in the short times I've encountered her, she was always drunk. Alcoholism is said to be genetic. And in all honestly, I don't want to be anything like them. I don't want to be in a situation where I am not in control of my life, where alcohol is the most important thing to me.

Looking back on my childhood, I remember bursts of anger, abuse towards family members. I remember days of making drinks for my grandpa and my dad. My two younger siblings and I could make a drink with our eyes shut. I have a lot of memories of my childhood, and alcohol unfortunately is part of those memories. Alcohol was such a big part of my childhood that my father and cousin put a pint of Jack Daniels in my grandfather's coffin. Because when they thought of my grandpa, they thought of him drinking.

I absolutely hate alcohol. Hate it. I hate the way it smells, I hate the way it tastes, I hate the way people act when they are drunk, and I especially hate what it does to my loved ones. I really don't want to be around anyone who drinks. I put up with it in social settings because I know that I won't have to deal with it very long. I don't judge people for drinking socially, it's just not something I want to be a part of. There were many times where I wouldn't go to something because I knew there would be alcohol involved.

I remember once even putting myself in Al-Anon because my father was stressing me out so badly after my grandma died. He constantly called at 1 or 2 in the morning drunk. It was a lot for me to handle. His drinking has calmed down due to his heart problem. And I see his heart problem as a blessing in disguise, it's the only thing that opened his eyes about his drinking.

For so long, I've lived my life and chose not to surround myself around any drinking at all. Now, I'm right back into it and I feel as though I'm reliving my childhood again. I knew moving in with my dad and girlfriend that alcohol would come into my life again. They both drink, with her drinking more than him (only because of his heart). The entire attitude of the house changes when 4pm hits. The first drink is poured, a cream soda and Vodka. From that point forward, the drinks continue to flow until about 9 or 10 at night. At that point the drinking has commenced and it's now time for dinner. Yes, we eat dinner that late every night. Last night dinner was at 10:30. I finished up the dishes at 11:30. At first she was drinking and would get a little buzzed. But it seems for the past month her nightly drinking has become nights of drunkenness. I can always tell when it happens, I see her make the numerous drinks, her eyes start to get a little glassy, her speech is slurred, she starts making no sense at all when she talks. Oh and let's just throw some pot into the mix, because she smokes that every day as well. I hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it.

Hate it.

Last night, I couldn't get the dishes finished quick enough to get to bed. I was at a breaking point and wound up crying myself to sleep. All I can do is keep praying is to find a job soon because I don't know how more I can handle and I'm afraid of blowing up. The option of talking to my dad is out of the question. I already know his reaction and I would probably be looking for a place to stay soon after the conversation. She's not willing to change, I realized that a few days ago as we were at my cousin's house. My cousin has realized her alcoholism has taken over her life and is trying really hard to quit. She's fallen off the wagon twice in a year, but she knows she needs to quit. I'm proud of her, I know it can't be easy, but she's trying. My dad's gf said in the car as we were driving back that she was happy for my cousin and would respect her enough not to drink at her house. But if my cousin came to our house, the drinking would still take place. She said she wasn't changing her ways for someone visiting us.

It just makes me sad.

There's so much more I can say about this, but it's pointless. It's the same thing over and over again, night after night. I'll never be okay with it, never. Once again I am in a role reversal. I'm the parent and they are the children. A role I'm familiar with more than I want to be.

I never expected to care

I never expected to care when I heard the news. It had been years since I had any type of contact with her. My life was going great, I was moving on from the hurt and pain she caused and realized I was better off without her in my life.

The her I am referring to is my mother, whom I affectionately refer to as her first name, Pam. And our relationship (or lack of) was an odd one. We didn't have a relationship. But not having her in my life has affected me more than I can ever begin to explain. But my mother was a severe alcoholic and was in an abusive marriage. She had no intention of getting help for either one. And so, I couldn't help her. We reconnected for a short time, but I eventually realized that I couldn't have a relationship with her. I was always the one keeping in contact with her, I was always the one working to keep the relationship going. She always used the excuse that she wasn't a good communicator, but my thinking was that if she cared at all, she would make the effort. It came to a point where I couldn't handle her or her situation any more and pushed her out of my life. It didn't take much, she made no effort to stay in my life.

Every day, there was a part of me that expected the news of her death. I always said I didn't know what would kill her first: the alcohol or her husband.

I had a great day on Friday. Kristine had a football game for school to attend. That left me and her son to hang out for the evening. Kristine took a nap after school so she would be refreshed for the game. She woke up discombobulated and I could see she was clearly out of it. She didn't tell me till later, that she felt something was wrong. Her son and I went to Tempe Town Lake to view the 9/11 Memorial. It was a good evening and we had a good time. So far, my day is still going good. Justin and I get some dinner and I help him look up something on the Internet.

In seconds, my world would change. I came into my room and logged into my email to find that my mother had passed away on Thursday. It didn't register at first, I had to re-read the first line of the message again, "Your mother died last night." The walls of my chest closed in again and I was struggling to breathe. I stood up and braced my desk. Moments later the tears fell. And they continued to fall for quite some time. She's gone, she's really gone. My mother is dead.

The details to her death are haunting me and will for some time. Her death is under investigation and for respect of Pam, I'm not going to write what happened. As of right now, I still don't know her death was caused by her drinking or her husband.

I tried to save her from the live she lived.

I tried to get her to stop drinking.

I tried to get her to leave her husband who was abusing her. I even had the phone number of a police station near her as well as a battered women's shelter for when she decided she was ready.

I tried to get her on a plane for a visit in Arizona. But I knew I wasn't going to let her get back on the plane to Michigan. She never came, instead she ended up in the hospital.

I tried to tell her about Jesus. I bought her a Bible, she said it was a nice book and looked colorful on the bookshelf.

I tried to have a relationship with her.

I tried, I tried, I tried. And now she's gone and it's too late.

I have experienced a lot of things in the 32 years I have been alive. Different kinds of pain. Both of my grandparents who raised me have died. But the pain I am experiencing is a whole new level that I have never felt before.

The pain of losing an actual parent. It hurts. It hurts really bad. It hurts like nothing I have known before. Yesterday at the doctor's office, the nurse asked me if both of my parents were still alive. I hestitated and swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in my throat and said, "No. My mother just died."

I never expected to care so much about the death of woman that I really didn't know. I never expected to grieve for losing her twice (once for our relationship and now her death).

She was 55 years old and is no longer suffering from the life that held her captive.

What alcohol means to me

Dictionary.com defines alcohol as this:

1. A colorless, limpid, volatile, flammable, water-miscible liquid having an etherlike odor and pungent, burning taste, the intoxicating principle of fermented liquors, produced by yeast fermentation of certain carbohydrates, as grains, molasses, starch, sugar, or obtained synthetically by hydration of ethylene or as a byproduct of certain hydrocarbon syntheses: used chiefly as a solvent in the extraction of specific substances, in beverages, medicines, organic synthesis, lotions, tonics, colognes, rubbing compounds, as an automobile radiator antifreeze, and as rocket fuel.
2. Whiskey, gin, vodka, or any other intoxicating liquor containing this liquid.

But to me.....alcohol means this:

• Spending the summers with my dad, where him and my step-mom drank all night long while my sister and I tended to my little brother.
• Him waking me up at 2 a.m., drunk as ever, apologizing for giving up custody to my grandparents (by the way, I had a much better upbringing with them).
• Him coming to visit while I was living in Indiana as a child and dragging me to a biker party where everyone was drunk.
• My grandfather having me make him a rum and coke at all hours of the day. That is his and my dad's drink of choice.
• Learning how to mix drinks at a very young age.
• The smell of any alcohol nauseates me beyond belief because of what I've dealt with growing up.
• Me and my niece breaking up a fight between two men this past Thanksgiving. No other men were around to break up the fight. They were both drunk and literally fighting. Calling a friend and begging him to come from Arizona get me after the fight.
• Many promises broken due to alcohol.
• Putting myself in Al-Anon because even though my dad lives in another state, he was stressing me out that bad.
• My mother is such an addict of alcohol, that her body literally depends on it now. Her body is in such a fragile state, if she stops drinking, her body would go into shock and she would die.
• Cleaning up vomit at all wee hours.
• My niece being so afraid of my father making a scene due to his drinking, she didn't invite him to the wedding.
• My short vacations in California always consists of cleaning up beer bottles, supporting my niece as she tries to convince her husband not to drive somewhere after he's been drinking. Making a brave attempt to not smell the beer. Wanting to turn around and come home only a few hours after arriving there.
• The sound of dishes breaking from somebody drunk throwing them. Not to mention the arguing.
• Many nights of crying myself to sleep from dealing with an alcoholic grandfather, father, and mother.
• In the short time my mother was in my life, her drinking messed me up so bad that I realized I am better off without her in my life.
• Calling my dad after 12 p.m. is just stupid, I can guarantee he's drunk and usually slurring his words.
• I do not drink. I haven't had alcohol in probably about 10 years. People make fun of me for not drinking, I've been called everything. I don't care...alcoholism is genetic and I do not want to become like my family members. No...I refuse to let alcohol consume my life like that.

I'm just so, so, so sick of dealing with it.