Scattered Thoughts

I’m not the biggest fan of the band The Killers, I think Brandon is more than a bit full of himself.
But last year on the way back from Disneyland, we were listening to Sam’s Town (I think), and the song “Boots” came on. It’s Boo’s favorite.
Listening to it was like a punch in the gut and it made me cry.
It’s starts out with George Bailey’s prayer from It’s a Wonderful Life, and goes on to describe holding onto childhood memories when we’re at our most desperate of times.
It reminded me of my last Christmas before I got sober.
I spent it in Tijuana getting wasted off my ass with some friends who were Marines.
Making out with complete strangers and just generally being the “Messy Drunk Girl”.
I had no family, nobody gave a shit if I lived or died.
…I later found out that had I passed out the guys I was with would have been more than happy to leave me there…some friends, eh?
There’s a period between teen and adult where our parents are still godlike, they still know everything, they haven’t become “human” yet. When we haven’t fully come into ourselves, and we still don’t want to be a disappointment.
I was lucky during this time to still be suffering under the delusion that I still meant something to my dad, and it killed me that I was such a disappointment.
He would still tell me on the phone, “well, why don’t you just go to college? apply for a pell grant and go?”
“Um dad, I don’t have a car to get there, and I have to work otherwise I don’t have a place to live. I don’t have time to go to college.”
Meanwhile his stepdaughter was studying to be a lawyer.
It was around that time that I started praying to die.
I wanted to start over, and I didn’t know how.
I wanted to die but was terrified to do it myself.
My father’s wife would tell me that I was depressed and that I should see a therapist.
“Um yeah…I don’t have health insurance and wouldn’t know where to find a therapist in the first place.”
I prayed George Bailey’s desperate prayer.
I got sober the day after my 21st birthday. I was so excited.
Life was bright and beautiful, and I wasn’t praying to die anymore.
My father was furious.
“There are no alcoholics in our family, you can’t be an alcoholic!”
His wife whose second husband had been a drunk said I was just “going through a phase. I know all about AA and that Big Blue Book! They don’t help anyone.”
That really hurt me, because it seemed like I couldn’t do anything that didn’t disappoint.
But I didn’t drink. One day at a time I didn’t drink.
Back to “Boots”…
The one thing my children regularly hear from me is “I don’t know, let’s find out.”
I don’t ever want them to think that I know everything. I want them to always understand that I’m human.
To know that I’m always here despite the fuck ups…always.

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