Once more with feeling...
I don't really remember a time without the alcohol. I know there was a period when I was really little that she had it under control but that didn't last long. Control never seemed to last long with my mother. She used to get drunk and pass out in the living room...I remember I'd come downstairs to ask what was for dinner, only to find she had spent all the money on her booze. Every single time she'd wake up and apologize...she would tell me how sorry she was, and how that was the last time.... and I'd always believe her. I knew deep inside nothing would ever change...but christ, she was my mom..what was I supposed to do?
It finally got so bad that she couldn't work anymore. So I had to. I used to have to hide the money from her because I knew she'd always go searching for it when she ran out of alcohol. I used to beg her. I cried and begged her to stop...for herself, for me. My dad was killed when I was just a baby...maybe that's why she started. I honestly don't know...if I ever asked her, she'd start crying and tell me how I shouldn't talk about that because the drinking was over now..
By the time I was 16, I knew I hated her. I hated her for every tear she ever caused me to shed, every broken promise, every time she yelled at me when she was wasted...I hated her for making me know what it was like to have to make every dollar count because the person that was supposed to provide for you was too wrapped up in her own goddamn world to notice that you're starving.
But the thing is...I love her. I love her because she's all I have in the world....
Maybe Alcoholism is a disease....but look around, the real victims are the sober ones.
It finally got so bad that she couldn't work anymore. So I had to. I used to have to hide the money from her because I knew she'd always go searching for it when she ran out of alcohol. I used to beg her. I cried and begged her to stop...for herself, for me. My dad was killed when I was just a baby...maybe that's why she started. I honestly don't know...if I ever asked her, she'd start crying and tell me how I shouldn't talk about that because the drinking was over now..
By the time I was 16, I knew I hated her. I hated her for every tear she ever caused me to shed, every broken promise, every time she yelled at me when she was wasted...I hated her for making me know what it was like to have to make every dollar count because the person that was supposed to provide for you was too wrapped up in her own goddamn world to notice that you're starving.
But the thing is...I love her. I love her because she's all I have in the world....
Maybe Alcoholism is a disease....but look around, the real victims are the sober ones.