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Only rambling. [cw: alcoholism]
Jun. 27th, 2016 06:49 amI've never used this space for anything much, but I suppose this is what it's for.
If I never see or smell alcohol again, I'll be too happy. I don't know how my brother managed to trip the alarm twice over, but I had a terrible time explaining it to the cops. This means he drove home completely wasted, like he hasn't learned a single lesson. Like he doesn't care. Jail meant nothing, suspending his license meant nothing, and I honestly thought this nightmare ended with our father, but he seems all too eager to carry on the worst possible traditions.
I promised and promised and swore that I'd never become that sort of person, like him, because my brother innocently emulated every decision I made, even if I jumped the last steps on our staircases. I never took a single sip of anything, but it's turned out like this again. I don't know what to do. I'm so tired of our mother's questioning; "how much did he have, who was he with, what time did he come home" and on and on, as if I'm his probation officer.
I don't know how I'm supposed to get better. What I can do for myself while he's like this, because it never changes. Because it's been months and forever going on now, and I really can't hold it all, and I need this to be over. I want to sleep off the medications that I don't want and figure out what normal is supposed to be for us. I want to stay asleep. I don't want this to be our normal. I want my father to come and clean what he left a mess, mend it and put back together what he dropped, but he meant to drop it, and there's no helping that.
I'm going to keep that promise, though, whatever it's worth at this point.
If I never see or smell alcohol again, I'll be too happy. I don't know how my brother managed to trip the alarm twice over, but I had a terrible time explaining it to the cops. This means he drove home completely wasted, like he hasn't learned a single lesson. Like he doesn't care. Jail meant nothing, suspending his license meant nothing, and I honestly thought this nightmare ended with our father, but he seems all too eager to carry on the worst possible traditions.
I promised and promised and swore that I'd never become that sort of person, like him, because my brother innocently emulated every decision I made, even if I jumped the last steps on our staircases. I never took a single sip of anything, but it's turned out like this again. I don't know what to do. I'm so tired of our mother's questioning; "how much did he have, who was he with, what time did he come home" and on and on, as if I'm his probation officer.
I don't know how I'm supposed to get better. What I can do for myself while he's like this, because it never changes. Because it's been months and forever going on now, and I really can't hold it all, and I need this to be over. I want to sleep off the medications that I don't want and figure out what normal is supposed to be for us. I want to stay asleep. I don't want this to be our normal. I want my father to come and clean what he left a mess, mend it and put back together what he dropped, but he meant to drop it, and there's no helping that.
I'm going to keep that promise, though, whatever it's worth at this point.
