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I couldn’t help it, I didn’t want to lose her again. He didn’t understand. His parents were normal, healthy, and they had no vices or faults. His family was perfect.
Although, at least now my mom wasn’t nasty to me like she was before, always telling me how much she appreciated me, how lucky she was to have a daughter like me, how much she loved me and wished she could be better for me. I focused on that instead of the disaster she’d caused in my life.
Every day it was a different story about why she was drinking in the first place.
I was having to pick her up at random bars at all hours of the night. Most of the time I was sleeping next to Christian, who of course, never let me go on my own to get her. We’d end up in some shady ass neighborhoods with his temper looming. He was furious with her…
With me.
Yet still, he was by my side, carrying her out of the bar and into the back of his truck. One time she threw up all over his seats, and despite getting it detailed, the heavy scent of vodka and vomit lingered in the leather for several weeks. Having to throw her into cold showers to sober her up was a thing of the norm.
Let’s just say Christian’s patience with her was wearing very fucking thin.
I hated fighting with him over her, but what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave her alone. What kind of daughter would I be if one day I got a phone call that she’d died in a car accident or something? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to her and I could have prevented it.
I was at a loss when it came to her.
The only thing I could do was try to get her to take her meds. She said they didn’t work anymore. She still felt manic, and the only thing that made her feel normal was drinking. She said it took away the highs and lows she was constantly battling, when in reality it was just making it worse.
I tried to tell her she needed to inform her therapist, but she’d lost her job and didn’t have insurance anymore, and I couldn’t for the life of me get her to fill out the paperwork for Medicaid.
It was one thing after another.
I told her I’d pay for her therapy sessions and medicine, but she was adamant she didn’t want to be a burden on me, never realizing how much of a burden she was with her binge drinking. I battled my own demons, fucking petrified I’d end up like her.
It was why I barely drank, afraid I’d get addicted. It was already in my genes, adding bipolar and depression into the mix. Christian, in his medical expertise, always eased my anxiety about it, saying I’d be fine. I just needed to make sure I was always honest with him about how I was feeling daily.
His concern for me was as never-ending as mine was with my mom. I was at my wits end, not knowing which way was up or down when it came to her. It was like a rollercoaster of emotions, and I was hanging on for dear life, praying she’d eventually come to her senses and stop drinking to get her life back on track.
I started paying her bills, taking out some student loans without Christian knowing. I didn’t want her to lose her home too. She’d worked so hard for it. I knew in my heart she’d eventually stop drinking, I just didn’t know when or how.
“Sweetness, please try to enjoy your birthday and stop thinking about your mother.”
I deeply sighed, trying to reel in my emotions. “I can’t help it, Christian. I haven’t heard from her all day.”
“It’s not the first time, babe, and it won’t be the last.”
“But it’s my birthday, and she promised she’d be here tonight.”
“Your mom makes a lot of promises she doesn’t keep, Kinley.”
“Not when it comes to me.”
As if on cue, her car came barreling down the road. We heard her tires squealing when one of my worst fears came true. She hit Christian’s parents’ mailbox, running it over until her car came to a complete stop. Her body roughly jerked forward.
We all ran out of his house, hauling ass to her.
“Mom!” I shouted in a panic.
Her body was against the wheel, hunched over.
“Shit! I think she’s unconscious!”
Christian was faster than I was, opening the driver-side door to see if she was alright. Her body fell into his arms, and within moments she was waking up and fighting him.
“Mom! Stop it!”
“I’m fineeee.” She pitifully tried to shove him.
