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Eabtrees
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Member Since: Jun 2018
Location: Florida
Posts: 5
5 yr Member
Default Jun 05, 2018 at 05:40 PM
 
Hey guys.

My name is Elizabeth. I’m 26. My birthday is at the end of the month. Today is the first time I’m reaching out to anybody about my mom, truly and desperately, since I was 16.

My mom is dying. She weighs less than 100 pounds. She looks like a speckled skeleton. She has scabs and bruises all over. She can’t walk without someone holding her hand. She can’t eat very much if at all. She can only drink and sleep and say awful things.

I remember her drinking, a glass of wine when I was 9.

Then she broke her leg that winter. I became her vodka girl. She’d have me do the laundry and fix dinner, she’d have me pour her glass after glass of vodka. I was 9. I didn’t understand that I was hurting her by obeying her. And I knew better than to question her. And I thought it was weird that I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that I poured her drinks. I thought I was being a good girl. I wanted her to heal and get better. My father divorced her a few months later.

I could go over my whole childhood, but it would be easier to say the my mom slowly gave up on herself over the next decade, and then even more the decade after that.

She wasn’t a functional alcoholic when I was high school. Not really. She barely functioned. But she managed to keep it together enough.

We had moved in with her boyfriend when I was 12. He was a mean drunk, and not at all a good guy to raise a kid. He died when I was 19? Maybe 20? It destroyed my mom far more than I ever thought it could.

She has been set on killing herself ever since.

This past Christmas my family, her parents and my brother and her sister and her niece, we all decided to intervene. My family was supposed to meet my brother and I at her house. We were supposed to try to help her. A few days before THE DAY, my family said they weren’t coming. We weren’t going to intervene. My mom wouldn’t get our help.

I hate this. I can’t do anything on my own. And I think it’s gotten to the point of no return.

I was supposed to pick up my mom this morning from her home, an hour and so south of here, drive three hours north, and meet her sister and my brother at the beach. But last night we were uninvited and given the reason “there’s too many plans, sorry”. This hurt my mom so much. I know it did. And I am angry that they would do this. It’s like they don’t care. I understand why she drinks. I understand why she is so depressed.

But I don’t understand my mom anymore. She called me, angry as hell last night. I told her I’d take her to the beach even if our family didn’t want to hang out. She was angry but adamant that we would go and have a great day at the beach.

I picked her up at 9:15. She was weird and skeletal and bragged about all her injuries. She talked smack about our family, was angry and childish. She said she was hungry and could we stop at a restaurant. She had told me the night before that we would “eat and drink cheap, and just hang on the beach!”. I wasn’t hungry. It was hell to have to see her so bad off and hear the awful things she said. I could smell the alcohol on her. I realized when we stopped at Hooters, the only thing she wanted was more alcohol.

That’s why she wouldn’t let me do fast food.

She needed a shot of Perron. And I watched her drink and eat four tater tots and be ready to go.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to slap her and shake her and wake up the woman who raised me.

She was so sad that i didn’t want to eat any of the tots she ordered. And I know it would have made her happy. But the woman I took out today is not my mom. She sounds a little like her, and looks kind of like her, and she tells me how much she loves me, and about how next time we go to the beach we’ll get a hotel and we’ll do all these great things.

I think today is the last time my mom will ever see the beach.

I don’t know how to express how angry and how sad and how lonely I feel.

I miss her so much. She was such an amazing and tough woman. And the hallucinatory skeleton person I had to carry around today, because she can’t walk anymore, is not my mom.

I don’t have anyone to talk to about this. I want to help her so badly but deep down in my heart I know it’s too late. What can I do when she knows she’s killing herself but doesn’t care?

She has no concept of reality.

And I am so sad.
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