Dammit, Dammit, Dammit

Now I am absolutely glad I did not just stay overnight with everyone…. yet I wish I had. I’m stuck between the two choices…

I was on the phone with Cory, starting to fall asleep, when the phone rang in the living room.. so I got up out of bed, grumbling (who the fuck would call at 12:40 in the morning, dammit?) and picked up the phone.

Some woman from the Germania (a bar my mother frequents) was calling to warn me that my mother had left there ten minutes prior. She was absolutely smashed, and they had been keeping her there and making her drink water, but she snuck out in a moment when they weren’t looking. She was concerned and wanted me to call back as soon as my mom got home.. but then I saw the Pathfinder pull in.

I opened the door for her as she came up.. she tried to step up into the kitchen, tripped and tumbled to the floor, smashing her head on one of the cabinets on the way. Then she curled up into a ball on the floor, sobbing and shaking. She wouldn’t let me touch her.. I could smell the alcohol from five feet away.. it was nauseating.. it seeped into my very pores, it seems. I feel dizzy, and I can’t help but blame that.

I didn’t know what to do. I tried to talk her to bed, but she wouldn’t. I freaked a bit and called our family friend, Ruben, but no one picked up the phone at his house. After about 20 minutes of her apologizing and sobbing, I maanged to pick her up and mostly carry her into the living room to lie her down on the couch.. but she turned and stumbled down the hall to the bathroom, slamming into walls and doors the whole way. I heard her fall down… but no sounds of throwing up…
so I went in there, and she pulled herself up and sat on the closed toilet seat, head on the sink, crying.

I kept trying to get her to go to bed.. she kept trying to send me to bed… I just told her over and over that I couldn’t sleep unless I knew she was safe in bed.. so she finally let me carry her to bed… She passed out before I could even get her shoes off. I didn’t bother with her clothes, despite the fact that they were soaked and muddy from all the times she must have fallen down outside somewhere between the bar and her car, then her car and the house.

I can’t sleep anymore.

I have never seen her this smashed before. Yes.. she comes home quite drunk nearly every night… but she’s completely wasted.

She once asked me if I thought she was an alcoholic. I said yes. Her response was “Well, I’m not an alcoholic. Alcoholics NEED to drink. I don’t NEED to.”

Screw you, liar.

She needs rehab, dammit.

If I hadn’t’ve come home tonight, and stayed in Jersey like I had thought about doing despite her telling me not to, she may just have stayed on the floor all night.

God dammit.