My mother, myself, and alcohol...

3 and a half years ago, I had to call an ambulance for my mother. An hour ago, she asked for details about what had happened, and how she ended up in the hospital. It was a conversation I never expected to have, and wasn't sure about how to answer. And there was a major part of the story that she will never know.

My mother is Bi-polar. Let's start with that. When things are good, she takes depakote as prescribed to her, and for the most part, life is good. Not everything was good 3 1/2 years ago though. I was 21, almost 22, and hating that I still lived with her. We fought constantly, and I got kicked out of the house on a 3 week rotation. It was a regular thing. I would get home high and/or drunk between 3 and 4 in the morning too many days in a row. We would fight and she would say I needed to figure out a different living situation. I would couch surf with friends for a couple days till she called to apologise, saying she was sorry and wanted me to come back, and I would return. Life was good for the next couple weeks.

We were on week two of the cycle, (when I was about to get kicked out again) when I found her. I was on my way to check my e-mail (which meant going downstairs and passing her bedroom) before work when I noticed the TV was still on. I peeked into her room, and saw that she was on the floor out side the bathroom of the master suite. She was topless, but still wearing her pants, and shivering. I couldn't wake her up, and eventually called an ambulance for her.

In a perfect world, I called immediately, and everything works out ok. I, however, did not live in a perfect world. He had been fighting the past couple days. She had been forcing me to drink water every time she decided a situation was too stressful. I almost left her alone, almost pretended I had never found her unconscious, and almost went to work like everything was normal. I stood in the doorway, thinking about how much better my life could be if she didn't exist anymore, if I didn't have a bi-polar mother who decided not to take her meds anymore, and wondering what she might have left me in her will.

In my real world, I eventually called 911, and she was saved from slipping into a coma from a sodium deficiency that could have killed her. I sat in the waiting room long enough to hear that she had woken up and would be ok, and then went to a friends house to cry and get high. and then I tried to forget about it. I blocked out the fact that I had almost let my mother die.

And then tonight we drank wine together in the kitchen, and became way too honest. and she asked about that night, and I told her everything except how I almost left that day. everything but how I almost let her die because I thought it might make my life easier.