Grief

I am not okay, I am not fine. Please do not ask.

Don't ask me to comfort you, especially for your absense. Your absence was noted when her drinking was no longer fun.

I cannot mourn her nor can I cry for her. My tears, my grief is for me, my inner child and my sister. My sister is filled with rage and shame and won't say the a word. I've been shouting it since I was 17 years old. I am nearly 40.

ALCOHOLIC

Almost 10 years since my dad passed and for him I had grief and loss. But for my mother I don't hold that. But even that she ruined, her grief was more important then mine. Her falling apart took priority.

Alcoholism stole my mother, my childhood, my safety, it stole my sister's peace of mind. My first memories are of putting her to bed, of making her a gin and tonic for when she got home from work. I learnt to open a bottle of wine before I learnt to spell.

I learnt to console and enable,to walk on egg shells, to alleviate my guilt over giving her a drink. I learnt to self soothe. I have rage for all the people who saw and said nothing. Ignore the slurring of words, the wobble in the walk, my bruises, the collection of bottles for recycling. Offer her a drink before she drives me home. 20+ years of collectively ignoring the problem.

And then suddenly the family is shocked she lost her licence, my sister refuses to allow her to come to her wedding unless she's sober. A family intervention but I'm not invited as I'm a child. I'm not i'm 25 at this point. How dare you assume you know best. You don't even know where the bottles are stored and where they are hidden. I'm embarrased that you ignored it for this long. Was her getting drunk and hitting on my friend's boyfriend at my 18th not enough. What about her arrest for drunk driving, the loss of her job for being drunk at work, all of this is a shock and surprise for you.

Uncle is heartbroken it's been almost a month and he still hasn't even text. My Aunt is desperate for a funeral or a memorial. Probably so she can take her turn to rewrite history. No performances, no petty squabbles, no using speeches to score points or bring up past mistakes.

No funeral for us a memorial in the future, but no date set. I don't have a goodbye. I have, I guess your at peace. No longer tormented by addiction.

I'm so bloody angry, and sad. And tired, so tired, everything seems to take more then I have. 20 maybe 30 years of caring and looking after her, seems to finally have caught up. No energy left.

I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you. I'm sorry that my sister, and your grandchildren weren't enough either. I'm sorry that the only love you had that came close to your love of drinking was dad and even that wasn't enough.

I'm sorry you had children when you never wanted them, because all your friends were. Sorry that you felt the need to tell us this on a regular basis. I'm sorry for whatever happened in your childhood that allowed you to f*** up mine.

I'm sorry that even though you are gone the scars you left run deep. The memories I have are all subject to your addiction. The choice you made to keep drinking. The choice stopped being yours long ago when the addiction became the master.

The last words you said to me were wine.

I'm not okay, I'm not fine.