what just happened

most recently…she went on another bender and ended up in the hospital.  dad called 911.  he couldn’t deal with it any more.  she was losing control of her bladder all over the place.  didn’t even care.  just wanted more wine.  she was pissed that they took her to the hospital.  pissed that she was there.  the oxygen they put her on cleared her head enough so she snarled at the doctor “i want to get out of here, i just want to go home, and drink my wine, and go to sleep.”  yeah, you don’t have a problem, do you.  at some other point during all of this, the doctor – her new doctor – told her she has to stop drinking or she’s going to die.  and she apparently said something like “maybe that would be best” or “maybe I should” or something like that.  and you know, at one time in my life i would have felt overwhelmed with sadness about that.  I would have tried to find just the right words to say to make her not feel like that.  I would have tried – and I would have failed.

and I did fail – many many many times over the years.  slow learner, i guess.  or optimistic.  or naive.  whatever.  i never said or did just that right thing to make her stop.  it took me years, but i finally realized that i don’t have the right words to say.  it’s like glinda tells the scarecrow about dorothy understanding how to get home – “…because she wouldn’t have believed me…she had to learn it for herself.”  that’s what it boils down to.  she has to learn it for herself.  more than that, she has to want it.  and over and over again she mostly wants booze.