The first real glance at my mom's alcohol dependence started around the time I was in the sixth grade.
It started with periods of her disappearing for a couple days as well as spikes in erratic, strange, and moody behavior, which although unpleasant was all seemingly functional. Her disease quickly escalated as her ability to function decreased, and she began to let alcohol control her life, our lives.
At first it was all frightening; I have vivid memories of my mother passed out cold on the bathroom floor, her face purple, and her eyes glazed over. As my little brother would stand crying in the hallway, I'd slide a pillow under her head and wait for someone strong enough to come move her.
This lifeless state became a common occurrence, along with missed birthdays, graduations, and constant interactions with child services. It had gotten to a point where every time I heard a knock at my door, I expected it to be the fire department letting me know they have found "a resident of this address" passed out in a stranger's front lawn.
I've watched my mother slowly deteriorate over the years, and no matter what I do to help her sobriety, nothing has been able to stick...and believe me when I say we have tried everything in the book.
Her disease became a routine, MY routine, and now that I'm an adult, i'm struggling to find a new one. There's only so much you can give to a person and an addict who can't seem to give anything back. At first you feel guilty, like there has to be something that you can do for them, something you can change. That guilt soon becomes hopelessness and exhaustion, and there comes a time where the exhaustion just consumes you and all that exist for.
Nothing you can do or say will seem worth another heartache, but they say keep pushing, don't they?
They say "you should never give up on someone you love," but I say that's trivial.
If you are at a point with a loved one struggling with this disease, or any other, where you can't see yourself anymore..it isn't worth it. When you're the only one fighting a fight that isn't yours, it means it's time to take the gloves off. This disease is full of manipulation, disappointment, unpredictable circumstances, and can be toxic for any person involved. There comes a time where you have to do the thing that is the most difficult, which is put yourself first.
It's been a long time coming with my mom and I, and now that I have finally come to terms with the fact that the person I'm trying to save doesn't exist anymore, I have obtained some sense of peace.
Letting go doesn't mean you've stopped loving; it just means you've stopped accepting. You're done accepting it in their life, and you're most importantly done accepting it within your own.
For doing this you aren't a bad daughter, husband, wife, sister, brother, mother, father, or friend; you are a human being who deserves to live life on their own terms and not somebody else's.
