Rockbottom1964

Last night, at around seven, I watched my drunk old dad (78), like so many times before, stumble off to bed, leaning against walls and holding on to furniture along the way. This, after he’d been sitting on his own for half-an-hour +, mumbling to himself while getting together the strength – and courage – to walk the about 15 meters without falling. I readied his bed for him, but did not help him walk there; I’ve learned not to a long time ago – he’s way too proud. So I just watched this pathetic, gray and scrawny, sad old figure, flanked by his faithful old sheepdog, stagger off and fall into bed and almost instantly fall asleep.
That’s the SAD…
10 Minutes later, my “common-law” stepmother (they’re not married but have been together 30 years), wobbles into the house. She does - wobble, I mean. She’s 63 and built like a mini-tank: less than five feet tall and about seven feet around. She sways from one foot to the other when she walks and her arms are angled out at around 45 degrees (to help with her balance, I suppose); although they’re like that even when she’s sober.
She’s been feeding herself and the old man booze starting at their normal time (3Pm), but instead of keeping an eye on him like she usually does, she went visiting with her son and his wife, whose house is on the same stand – 30 meters away - and who drinks just as much. Every 20 minutes or so she comes home drunker, fixes herself a re-fill (she doesn’t like her son’s brand of Brandy) and then wobbles back.
So… at about 10 Pm last night, she crashes through my bedroom door, waking me and my dogs, and demands – drunk and belligerent – that I tell her what I have done with her ‘bottle’. Slurring: “Where’s my bottle? What have you done with the bottle?" I got up – p***** off – and found the half-empty thing back on the bottom shelf of the pantry, where she normally hides it from my dad so she can keep drinking after he’s passed out. It was lying on its side behind a creamer carton and had probably fallen over the last time she hid it there. Her body-language, though, told me she still believed I hid it from her…The disgust I felt - I’m sure she must have seen on my face and also heard in my voice when I told her I stopped drinking s*** ("kak" in Afrikaans, my language - which sounds a lot harsher when expressed right) two months ago - didn’t seem to bother her in the least. She poured herself a double-double and I went back to bed. I don’t mind the b**** killing herself with booze, but she’s killing my dad a lot faster, as sure as if she’s slowly cutting his throat…
That’s the ANGRY…
Sorry for venting here on SR...

DaisyBelle7

No need to apologize. You have every right to vent. I’m sorry you’re dealing with all of this.

Surlyredhead

I am so sorry RB (((hug)))

This is a safe place to vent, if you keep that poison inside it will fester and rot. Better to come here and let it out, or you will surly burst one day! Is there any way you can move to another dry location?

Kaily

What a horrible and difficult situation to be in. I hope you are able to move out soon so that you and your dogs get the peace and quiet you deserve. Other than that and for now I would suggest you get a lock for your bedroom door.

Rockbottom1964

Thanks, DaisyBelle. It' will get better, I know. I just hope my Dad isn't dead before it does...

Rockbottom1964

Thanks, RedHead. Unfortunately, no. If there was someplace else, I would have been gone a long time ago, believe me. My brother has an apartment I can share, but "No Pets" policy. My dogs will die without me, and I without them, so this is where I'm stuck for the moment.

Rockbottom1964

Hi, Kaily. And thanks for your post. I hope so too, believe me. And I believe it will happen; I dream of that peace and quiet in my own little sea-side corner, believe me. And the dogs will just love it.
A lock won't work; it will terrify my dogs if she starts hammering on our door; they already see our bedroom as the only place to hide once the drinking starts.
Speaking of which - at 11:11am on the dot, just after I started replying to you guys' posts, they broke a block of ice and poured their first drinks. By 2pm they'll be passed out, by 4pm, awake and going for round number two.
I'm already in the bedroom, door closed and writing. Tomorrow I'll be 60 days sober...