ALCOHOLISM A TRUE STORY

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As a young child I witnessed the horrible effects that alcoholism can have on a person. I struggled with the harsh reality of my mother having to caress a bottle of Jack Daniels every night before retiring to bed. I knew children my age who always told stories of horrifying things their parents would do after a long night of drinking and yet the majority of them couldn't wait until they could get their hands on a bottle of liquor themselves. My mother would make a fool of her self at times, screaming and yelling in public. She often grew violent; never with me, but often with my father. I vividly remember when she would pass-out after a long night of drinking and would wake up two days later believing she had only slept one night. Through each experience I was able to grow stronger and learned to overcome all obstacles that were laid before me.

July 4th, 18. I was nine years old. It was supposed to be night out with the family. A day to relax, eat and have some fun. My family drove to the top of the mountains to watch the fireworks light up the night sky. We had only been up there five minutes before my mother was ranting and raging about her bottle of whiskey. My brother and I scoured the car and stumbled across her "jug" in the trunk. I quickly gave it to her. She often threw tantrums like a baby and liquor was her only pacifier. It was growing closer to the moment the sky would be filled with beautiful lights and loud sounds. I hurriedly began laying a blanket across the front of the car for my siblings and I to sit, when behind me I heard a shuffling of feet. I figured it was my mother stumbling around trying to find a place to sit. Suddenly a loud smack rang out; it seemed to echo between the mountains. I ran to the back of the car and sitting there with his eyes filled with tears was my father. I knew he couldn't be crying because my mom just laid the loudest slap ever heard on him. I didn't see my mom she had wondered off somewhere, so I knelt down beside my dad and said "whats wrong?" He always told me "nothing" and I would let it be. I knew this time was different. He started bawling. I had never seen my father so upset. He continued by telling me that he just wanted the day to go perfect, have a fun time, no drinking, no fighting just a no-nonsense kind of night and once again my mother ruined it. She just had to drink and get physically violent. I never remember seeing the fireworks only my father cry. I was happy that only my immediate family was there that night mommy slapped daddy. It made it much easier to hide our little family secret of moms' alcoholism, but that all changed in one night a couple years later.

It seemed we were making progress, my mom had cut back and the family was growing stronger. During the "sobering mom up" phase my dad had cut back on saying "yes" to every family gathering or company party. She seemed to hold her self together at most functions but we always knew there was chance that she may just go crazy if she had to much to drink.

Around December of 1 the mailman delivered another elaborate wedding invitation. After reading the long list of information of when and where you had no choice but to read the huge print along the bottom that read OPEN BAR. Normally this meant we were not going so I figured my father would turn this invitation down, as he had the last couple of invitations that read OPEN BAR. This time he didn't. I guess he figured my mom could handle herself, after all she was making a change for the better. I was still fearful of that day my mom would go bonkers in front of the family.

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A month or two went by and it was time to go to the wedding. It was all I thought about the last few weeks. I was so worried about my mom drinking. We arrived and my mom headed straight for the bar. I thought to myself " I knew it." This was going to be night from hell. I kept my eye on her the entire time; she often would wander off when she drank heavily. She turned around and she had a small bottle of ice cold water in her hand. I just smiled. The night continued and my mom had not touched an ounce of alcohol. She was civil, she danced and seemed to be having a great time. The bride and groom were going around to each table toasting with every guest. I was on the dance floor when I glanced over, only to see my mom gently tap her glass with the hosts and take a large sip of champagne. My mom had been under control the whole night. A simple toast couldn't change that, right? I was never so wrong in my entire life. My mom had "fallen off the wagon" right before my eyes. The demon was back. Sandy didn't waste anytime strolling to the bar. "Whiskey straight up", she said to the bartender. I wanted him to scream " bar closed!" Instead he poured her a shot of some cheap whiskey and handed it to her. I watched he for about an hour chug down drink after drink, she was a one woman-drinking machine all over again. I sat down beside her as the night grew darker and her speech became more and more slurred. Her words or thoughts were not making sense and pretty soon it was pure babble coming from her drunken lips. My dad had made a comment to her to slow down a bit; he was trying to be very discreet. My mom began to scream and yell vulgar absurdities. My world came crashing down, the most horrible thing that could ever happen was happening. My mom was screaming at anyone that would try to calm her down. This crazy woman was cursing at small children, flailing her arms in the air. Her words were so coagulated no one could understand her. Small children were frightened by this dark demon that had arose from hell. This scene went on for about fifteen minutes. People were beginning to talk, some even left. No one was having a good time anymore this creature from the darkness had destroyed another perfect night. Her eyes glistened in the light and her voice crackled more and more with each scream. Suddenly, she snapped she threw herself to the ground and began crying. I believe in this very instant she began to realize how serious her drinking had become, how idiotic she had made herself look and how embarrassed her family must be. The night ended with an apology from my father to the bride and groom. My daddy carried my mommy to the car and we were off to the safest place in the world, home.

There were many times I was unable wake my mom up. I was very scared and frightened. I would first watch to make sure she was breathing before I touched her. I was afraid she would be dead and the thought of touching a dead body made me cringe. After I established she was breathing I would gently shake her. Her eyes opened slightly and closed immediately.

I came home early from school on a Friday afternoon and my mom was passed out on the couch. It was pretty normal to check if my mom was breathing and try to wake her up and today was no different. As always her eyes open and closed and she was in her dreamland. I went about my usual, cleaning up and starting dinner. I never tried to be quite because I wanted my mom to be awake when I was home, she was funny when she was sober and I enjoyed her company. It was getting late and my brother and sister both came home from school and were being loud as ever. Mom still did not wake up. The sun began to go down and dad came strolling in and still mom was passed out on the couch. I tried waking her once more for dinner and she did the same thing open, shut and back to sleep. My dad carried mom to bed and laid her down, she looked so peaceful.

I woke up late the next morning and normally mom was up. She was still in bed. I went outside played for a while and came back in to see if she was awake. I checked her breathing to make sure and my dad walked in and said "mom is breathing she's just really tired, go play." Lunch and dinner passed. Night came again and I hadn't heard a peep from my mom. Was she alive? I knew there was possibility she could always drink herself to death, she would laydow and never get up again. I always feared I would be the one to find her. The next morning I woke up it was Sunday now and mom was happy as ever. "Good morning sunshine!" She was cooking breakfast and she was so beautiful sober. I asked her why she had slept so long and she giggled. She replied " only a few hours longer than you." I said " mom you've been asleep since Friday afternoon." "And it's Saturday, what the big deal?" I had to think for a moment. "Nope it's Sunday." She continued to argue with me and finally my dad walked around the corner, he was listening in the living room. With a stern voice said "it's Sunday, you slept all day yesterday, which was Saturday and now your awake, get with it woman." My mom had this perplexed look upon her face, she really thought it was Saturday. I could tell she was embarrassed. She had done this once or twice before, but realized it before we confronted her and always had a good cover up story to lay on us. It was one of her drunken acts, drink, pass out, sleep and rise again to start all over. I was very used to this by now. I shrugged it off and continued on my way.

My mom and dad eventually split up. She is now back "on the wagon" and sober since 1, the year I graduated. It was her present to me. I grew up watching a horrible demon control the heart of a wonderful woman and it haunted me everyday. Dealing with her attitude, violent acts and her continuous drunken outbursts helped me grow as a person. I was able to take all the obstacles in front of me and turn them into learning paths. I learned that if you want your life to change you have to make it change. I am twenty-one years old now, I drink occasionally and my life is where I want it to be. Sometimes I sit and wonder how I would be if my mother wasn't so foolish. Would I have the same outlook on life? Would I be so driven? I guess I'll never know.

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