Lately I have been doing a lot of thinking. I've been trying to figure it out. Relationships are so confusing, but only for the people who are involved. How come outside parties see things so clearly when when you are inside, everything is clouded?
Things with Rachel are awkward. I can't stand her. It makes me mad that she sits in front of me in math. I get pissed off when ever I look at her. She was a royal bitch to me. She used me, mislead me, and betrayed me. I wish I could get over what happened, but it still haunts my mind. I still have to keep busy from to keep the ghosts away. I wish she would say something to me. I wish that she would apologize, but I probably wouldn't believe it if she did. Maybe that's why she hasn't, because she knows it wouldn't matter and probably just make me mad. Or maybe that's just giving her to much credit and she is still blind.
So, I guess that leads to the next subject. For the first time, in a long time, I'm single. It's weird. My girlfriend is usually my best friend. Most of my time would have been spent with her, especially with the nice weather coming up. It's wrong that I feel like without a girlfriend, I'm missing something in my life, but I do. Maybe this time should be used for figuring out how to live with out the other.
Family relationships suck, and I think it's time to let this problem out. I have said bits and peaces here in there, but the full story doesn't come out very much. It's changed my home.
It started Freshmen year. Mom got really lazy, irritable, sleeping all the time, and sick. She would wake up, go in the bathroom, and would throw up. She went to the doctor (one of many visits) and she came back with telling us it was menopause. We took her word.
So it was about of year of this when I got back from Disneyland. Cory left to Africa a month or two before. I remember this very vividly. I remember I was still unpacking and I had some garbage I need to throw away. I left my room and found dad was leaving Cory's room. He had three empty bottles of wine in his hands. My first thought was Cory, but I opened my mouth and dad told me that it was mom's.
Dad told me not to say anything to her, that he would do all the talking to her. I did as he said, and now I regret it. She said she would stop, that she didn't need help. Ha.
I remember coming home from shopping with Rachel to find mom passed out on the couch.
I remember the reason why I got my permit.
I hate how warren out the recliner feels.
I remember several times not wanting to come home.
Even though I despise her, I still wish Rachel met my sober mom.
I remember when Mom gave me a ride home from jazz over the summer and I found a glass. When we left the car, I took it in. I remember the the piercing sent of alcohol still luring in the cup.
I can't remember the last sober holiday she has had.
I think out of all things, there was one month that was horrid. I don't think I'll ever forget or forgive September of 08. It was a week before my birthday when I caught her red handed. Mom and Dad gave up their room for the Grandparents and they were sleeping in the camper. I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed when I heard something. I went to the pool room and saw that the blinds were closed, no one ever closes them. I snuck to the door, and just went for it. I undid the deadbolt as fast as I could and swung the door open. There was mom, drinking. She hid a bottle under the deck. I took it from her. I opened the blinds, and talked to Cory. He was watching South Park. I told him what just happened and he needed to go look under the deck for the rest of the bottles. I went to bed, or tried. I had a feeling that I should get up and check on things, and you would never guess what, the blinds were shut again. I booked it for the door.
Mom must have heard me, because when I got out, she was running to the camper. She had a safe way grocery bag in her hand. I was pissed off beyond believe. I really don't remember what was said, but she was mad that she had to empty them. She took a bottle, opened it, and pored it on the gravel. I took the bag, went inside, locked the door, opened the blinds, and threw the bag on Cory. I told him to empty them. I headed for my room. It couldn't have been longer then five minutes when I heard a knock on my door. Mom wanted my forgiveness. I told her to go away.
Even if I pretended that I forgave her, she wasn't sober enough to remember. It was 11 when it was all done with, and twelve before my eyes gave in to what they were doing and rested.
Not that it was a big deal, but she wasn't sober on my birthday either in that September.
It's screwed up when the youngest child in the family has to deal with his drinking Mom. I don't think anyone is ready for it, but most definitely not the youngest. I sat down with the family a few times, and had a talk. How the hell I found the courage, I don't know. Dad talks all the time about what needs to be done in the car, but nothing ever happens. She still drinks. I know when she isn't sober, but I'm never sure when she is.
(If there are any grammar or spelling errors, let me know. Tell me over aim, not in comments. And please, don't get to picky.)
