One of my first blogs last year, I talked about toxic people. It’s easy to cut toxic people out of your life, but not if its family. Sadly, I have many toxic family members as I’m sure most people do. But I’ve put up with shit out of loyalty to my family.
I am struggling as I’m writing this. I’m really not sure if I should be talking about this or not.
I’m fighting with this decision to blog because the tumultuous relationship I’m referring, to is with my mother. And I’m terrified she might read this.
Throughout my life with my mother, things weren’t always difficult, I have plenty of great memories with her. But I feel like there are so many more bad memories. Maybe that’s just because those are much more painful.
My mother, like my father was, is an alcoholic. She has struggled with alcoholism for what feels like my whole life. Like most addicts, she downplays the role that alcohol has in her life and doesn’t believe she has a problem.
My mother has suffered from depression on and off throughout my life, even though she never got a diagnosis from a doctor. And I know her struggle with depression and alcohol go hand-in-hand. Her depression got so bad when I was a child that she hadn’t left our apartment for years. People in our neighborhood actually believed she was dead. As a young child, I remember her telling me…
“…I should just kill myself.”
I remember pleading with her not to leave me, that I needed her. And even though we don’t have the best relationship, I’m glad she didn’t commit suicide like she had wanted to countless times.
Her struggle with alcoholism got worse when I was around 12 years old. I suspect she had been mixing prescription pills with alcohol but I can’t be certain. I remember her hallucinating and my father had to take her to the hospital. She had alcoholic hepatitis which caused jaundice. She went into the hospital the day of my first period, so that day will always stay with me. I didn’t have my mother at such an important stage in my young life.
She was in the hospital for days, I can’t recall how long, but I do remember the doctor talking to us. My godmother was there, and the doctor had said if she starts drinking again, she will die. She seemed sincere when she said she never wanted to drink again. I was hopeful for the future.
But she went back to drinking. It wasn’t long after she got out of the hospital. I remember we were at our neighbors house and she had poured my mom a beer. I yelled and reminded her that the doctor said she’ll die if she drinks again. She brushed it off like nothing and took a big gulp. I ran back across the hall to our apartment crying because I really believed that my mother was going to die. And she couldn’t have cared less.
Quitting drinking was difficult for my mother since my father was also struggling with the same addiction. Alcoholism is something both my parents fought with. My father lost his battle 4 years ago and I know my mother will eventually lose hers too. Losing my father was hard for all of us, but especially for my mom. This has caused her depression, and thus her alcoholism, to get worse.
I’ve gotten to the point in my life where I’m done fighting. Alcohol will always win. For a long time, I was angry and bitter about my parents “choice” to drink. But I know that addiction is a disease. And as long as my mother doesn’t want help, I cannot help her. It still stings of course, because alcoholism has negatively shaped our relationship.
The only thing I can do is be there for her as much as possible. I have come to terms with the fact that she probably won’t be around for much longer because of her addiction. It doesn’t make it easier. I try to take it one day at a time. Some days are more difficult than others. But I am really trying to maintain a good relationship with my mother.
I love my mother with all my heart. I wish so much that my love was enough for her to quit drinking for good, but life doesn’t work that way. I wish things were easier, I wish I could help her, and I wish she could be happy.