I told them, like a month ago my exact words were,
“Who cares if it will take longer to get back Jack and I in your custody, we live with you anyway, you need to go to rehab now. It doesn’t matter how sorry you are, you relapsed and spent 2G’s on fucking cocaine, you need to go and get some fucking counselling”
of course, nobody listened - because after 17 years of having my birthdays and Christmas’s ruined, after seeing her stumble through the front door and have to ring the ambulance and tell them how much of whatever you took and which stage you were at, because I knew all the fucking stages by the time I was 10 - no, I quite obviously don’t have a clue what i’m talking about.
And now it’s nearly 3am and mum was supposed to be home hours ago. We have a wedding tomorrow. It’s always an occasion. Birthdays, Christmas, Halloween party, wedding, year 6 graduation assembly. She hasn’t been sober for any of them.
Fucking CRAPSICLES. I can’t go through this again, I’m not strong enough, I’m still in recovery from the past 17 years and I sure as hell don’t want this on top of my anxiety right now
a) Sleeping in.
b) watching movies.
c) PLAYING SIMS ALL DAY.
- Cordelia: How many times have you been knocket out anyway? I swear, one of these times, you're gonna wake up in a coma.
- Giles: Wake up in ... never mind.
BRB Going to dissect my DVD set now and possibly do the dance of joy. SO EXCITED, YAY. I’ve been waiting so long to own this!