After the fire and the spectacle of what recently happened in my life I was feeling pretty hopeless. All I knew to do was move forward the best I could. It wasn’t long after the fire episode that my mother went through the worse Delirium tremens that I had ever seen. It was night and she was in my old bedroom thrashing about in the bed and screaming that spiders were attacking her. I tried to calm her down, but knew I needed to get her to the hospital. I had learned from experience how serious this was, that she could die, and needed immediate medical attention. My problem was getting my mother to the car by myself. She was naked, having hallucinations, and shaking violently. The thought of calling for help never occurred to me, even though at this point the neighbors knew something was wrong and I had nothing to hide. The lingering sense of shame and embarrassment I felt were crushing. I left her room trying to think of what to do and how to do it when she suddenly got up and started running. The hallucinations she was having were terrifying to her and me. She went out the front door and I frantically ran after her. After catching her and a lot of struggling, I got a robe on her and somehow got her in my car. We drove to Doctor’s Hospital where she detoxed. I can’t remember how long she was there, but it was at least a few days because I remember having to return to visit her. She was still very delirious, but was slowly coming out of the fog. The memory of sitting on the end of her bed at Doctor’s Hospital is still very vivid. This would be the most coherent I would see her before her death. Maybe that is why I remember it. I don’t remember talking. I just remember being with her.
I had someone ask me at the time where she got the alcohol from since she was always so drunk. I didn’t know the answer.
What I do know was we always had money and a car. Maybe she bought a lot of vodka all at once because I kept finding it hidden all over the house. I know when she ran out of vodka she would drink anything and everything that had alcohol in it…perfume, Nyquil, mouthwash, even rubbing alcohol. After detoxing at the hospital, within a day or two, she was back to being passed out every day. The senior prom was my next special event to have happen in my life. It was in May. On prom night, my date came to pick me up. My mother was passed out in the den and I think my father was at the lake. There was no one to take my picture or see me off. When my date arrived I wanted to get out of the house as quickly as possible because I didn’t want him to see her. I was so afraid she would wake up and do something awful. He asked me about taking pictures. I just shrugged. I didn’t knowing what to do or say, I just wanted to get out of there.
Next, high school graduation followed prom. Our school had hundreds of graduates and the ceremony seemed to go on forever. It was hot in the Dallas Convention Center. The main thing I remember is all my friends meeting their parents and families, getting hugs, and congratulations. I once again, was alone. As I walked through the crowds I looked anxiously for my father, hoping and praying he had made it there for me. I was so proud I had graduated with honors and I thought he would be proud too. I knew my mother wouldn’t be there because she was already passed out when I left my house earlier. I surely thought my dad be there for me. He wasn’t. I was heartbroken and felt numb. No one had come to support me. As I looked around, I was certain everyone knew that no one had come for me. The hurt and pain were incomprehensible, but by this point, I was angry too. I think on some level I thought that if I achieved enough and was popular enough my parents would change and pay attention to me. Little did I know? I did not have that power. No matter how amazingly I performed, they were not going to change until they dealt with their own pain. Sadly, this never happened. That night I went to graduation parties and got very drunk. The alcohol dismissed my self control and I remember crying uncontrollably. It was a horrible feeling believing that I didn’t matter to anyone. The next day was a Sunday and I went to the lake with my boyfriend to go water skiing. We had a lot of fun and I was able to forget the pain from the day before. I arrived home fairly late that night and was exhausted. I went straight to my bedroom. After changing clothes, my mother staggered into my bedroom.