unfinished

The truth is I've struggled a lot with mental health and my relationship with alcohol in my adult life. Those relationships have waned and waxed like the moon from the time I had to come home from Texas Tech when my dad was diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver throughout motherhood to today. I hold a lot of things that I've made public knowledge and much I haven't even admitted to myself, I'm sure. When I lost Holland, I was told so often I was an inspiration. I never felt that myself, but I wanted to be. Before even losing her, I drank often...sometimes just a bit, sometimes to the point of blackout, on any given day. I drank to relieve stress, to celebrate, to cope, to forget, to laugh, to feel less anxious in general and especially socially. for the longest time, alcohol was my confidant, my pat on the back, my brave voice, my secret keeper, my boredom solution, my only friend. I didn't need a reason to hang out with alcohol. I never really thought or accepted that it was excessive, even though my first therapist in 2016 who diagnosed me with extreme depression and anxiety, told me I was on the verge of alcoholism. I was gobsmacked--I didn't drink during the day hardly ever or have to have it to function, or have any of the side effects alcoholics have NOT drinking so I shook my head and ignored that shit. So after losing Holland, of course this magnified. I stuff a lot of feelings down inside, so I drank more to FEEL. I actually like to feel, but on my own terms. I was still waiting til normal non-addicted people started drinking so I still didn't have a problem, right?! I'd justify that if the clock was anywhere between normal business hours, the booze wasn't flowing so it was all good...well unless it was a holiday, I was excessively stressed, Taylor happened to crack one open or something to that effect. 2019 was the year it all magnified and intensified and I was drinking daily and it was second nature. I stayed home and inside more and more. I socialized less and less. I justified things more and more. Excuses were like opinions on Facebook....free-flowing and mostly delusional. I'd switched from mostly beer, to wine in boxes and began liquor store trips weekly to biweekly. Taylor and I fed off each other and he holds in how he feels OFTEN and is unconfrontational so he was usually doing the buying aka enabling.

My consistent friend was a downer though, while she brought along "FEELS" and sometimes laughter, mostly she brought along shame, deeper depression and inconsistency. The camel's back should had broken by the hundreds of instances over the years I'd embarrassed myself, did something I shouldn't have, said something I didn't mean, heard from close friends and family who only knew a piece of it how I needed to chill and so much more. The camel's back was piled higher than a skyscraper with straws that should have broken it but denial and inaction are strong mother fuckers. My dad made Jessica promise on his death bed to get my issue figured out, he didn't want me going through what he did....he'd told me long before that it wasn't worth it. Still, I drank. My kids knowing they couldn't drink after me without asking if it was wine, should have sent a sign, but still I drank. My sister sending her daughter to Kansas when she needed a vacation babysitter instead of asking me, should have sent a sign...and her finally admitting she couldn't trust me with the constant alcohol even if I waited til Spencer was asleep, should have sent a sign..but I thought I could just chill if asked to babysit, not considering the lack of chill in general was what she meant on never asking.

I can't pinpoint when I realized I actually had a huge problem but I wanted help and knew I couldn't do it alone sometime since Tucker started school. I didn't know how to do it and I didn't have the will to figure it out. I wanted someone to reach out and save me....but as I later found out, all my closest people were afraid of taking action for fear of me cutting them off and getting worse. I'm not a petty person by any means, but the consensus between family and close friends was that I'd cut them off. I was tired of spending time not feeling good, tired of going to the fridge, tired of knowing I wasn't proud of the person looking back at me in the mirror... tired of waking up to delete another thing I shouldn't have said or done from my phone and memory. I wanted to be done but I kept on because helplessness and fear. The Taurus in me despises change and surprises. It got so bad that if I didn't have something to drink in the house that would get me through a day or so, I'd plan a backup so I never had to be out. I may have gone through 2 boxes of wine a week, or 2 bottles of whatever, 3 if Taylor was participating which he mostly did.

The amount of time I spent thinking of death at any given time is proof of my strength because I'm still breathing. I'm a stubborn Taurean bull, remember?! I commit and commit hard to things like self destruction and things I can't change LOL. I'd