Oh the absurdity of it all!
I think it was about the end of June this year when I had the following conversation in the local meet and greet grocery store, with a dear friend; an alcoholic in recovery, who kinda gave me the first clue that maybe, just maybe… my life was spinning out of control. But, as a certifiable control freak, it all made perfect sense to me.
Him: “So, how are you? I’ve been meaning to call you about dinner……….”
Me: “Well, you’d better hurry because I am about on my way outta town for about 6 weeks! Yeah, we’re going to our vacation condo in Tennessee for about half of the Summer. It should be fun. It’s so peaceful there on the river and of course, I get to spend tons of time with the grandbaby!” ::Beaming::
“Tam is throwing a huge fit because she doesn’t want to go. She hates flying. And…any change to her routine…..OH MY GAWD! We’re all going to suffer for it.”
“But, I am making her go because she can’t stay home by herself. Who’d manage her meds? You can’t trust her to do it! And…she simply won’t eat. She’s skin and bones and you practically have to fix the plate and put it in front of her face. Maybe even lift the fork for her.”
“Seriously, she’d be dead by the time I got home. Really, it would stink up the house. I just don’t want to deal with that kind of mess. The cats are bad enough! Besides, I just finished the remodeling.”
“She’s beggin me to stay home…..wants to have the house sitter take care of her and the cats. But I said, “Hell No!” and that’s ridiculous because he’s her ex-boyfriend and Heaven knows that wouldn’t work! Can you imagine? So she’s going. Like it or not. Maybe she can get Dr. Feelgood to give her some meds for the flight.”
Him: “Ummmmmm. Lisa……HOW old is Tammy now?”
Me: “She’s 35!”
I believe he looked at me like I was nuts. Incredulous may be the best descriptive word.
Waaaahat? I thought. This is my kid we’re talking about. I am the MOM…she’s the kid.
Should I really be surprised he didn’t call about our dinner date?
Ok…so then there was this other time this past Summer……………
It was about midnight and my now 16 year old Abbie had just got home from hanging out with her friends on that cool night. As usual, I gave her the standard law-enforcement once-over, checking her eyes and breath. Considering the multitude of her experience in drugs and alcohol it was becoming routine on both of our parts. Having not smelled any hint of alcohol, perhaps because of the stench of nasty cigarette smoke emitting from her pretty mouth, I “let her go” and vowed to give her the handy-dandy home version, “pee in the cup” drug test in the morning.
Just as I was falling asleep I heard the angry screaming and the front door slam repeatedly. Ab was calling Tam every nasty name in the book, then going out on the front porch only to stumble back in, slam-the-beautiful-new-front-door-with-the leaded-glass-insert and have at her again. My GAWD girl do you eat with that potty mouth?
Alcohol. It had to be alcohol and I missed it!
My beautiful, but extremely wild Indian child can NOT do alcohol. With more than ½ Cheyenne/Cherokee blood coursing through her veins and an alcoholic Birth Mother, she absolutely CANNOT drink alcohol.
I’ve seen it from her before. Extremely Angry. Very ugly acting. Hateful. Depressed. Scary drunk.
So, I jumped out of bed and witnessed the most absurd exchange from my two girls, threatening to call the police if Abbie didn‘t calm her crazy self down, while Tam is trying to shoo me off to bed saying “I‘ll handle this!” Great. Just like the responsible adult she is! Again…Tam is 35 and Abbie is 16! Arrrggggghhh!
It seems that Abbie needed some cigarettes and asked Tam to drop them off to her at her friend’s house, in exchange for some of the marijuana Abbie has hidden in her bedroom. A swell deal for them both, I am sure.
But, as I know from 25 years of working in Corrections, there is NO DAMN HONOR AMONG THIEVES!
Abbie is screaming at Tammy for smoking ALL of it. Tammy is so “baked” that she can’t hardly respond, but says that there was only a little bit and she’s claiming Abbie’s too drunk to even know HOW MUCH marijuana she had left!
Having grown up with an alcoholic step-father, I know damn well there’s no arguing with a drunk. So, I continue to threaten to call the police on Abbie until she eventually realizes I mean business and I send everyone involved to separate corners..so to speak.
Once the drunk girl drifts off to sleep it off, I head to my room and cry once again. I think…….It’s all just so fuckin’ absurd. My life is spinning out of control and I just don’t know what to do.
And…that’s just a couple of the many situations that have caused me to seek help from Al-Anon.
The best part is…I am better. Much better now.
The girls? They are better too.
More later.
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