Troubled times

I've come into work today and within about the first 15 minutes have ended up in floods of tears. I hate crying at work, especially as a girl, it's one of those things you do and you kick yourself as you feel it puts you under par in terms of 'serious business person'. Men don't cry at work, or if they do, they do it in the cubicles so no-one ever knows.

That's not dramatic enough for me, so of course, I had to have a blazing row with Steve on the phone and then promptly burst into tears.

I hate arguing, it's frustrating ,it's upsetting and it rarely gets you anywhere, apart from on occasions, clearing the air. The topic we're arguing about at the moment, the, if you like 'arguement de jour' is.....you've guessed it. The sister.

Both of our tolerance of what's been going on with her has been tested to the maximum and if it wasn't for the fact that I love Steve so dearly, I'd have happily washed my hands of it many months ago. But that's not what being in a relationship is about is it? It's part of the package. He accepts my mum being depressed, I accept the fact his sister is an chronic alcholic. You stick by, you support as best you can, and you co-shoulder the burden. You also are the one who gets it in the neck when things get desperate as lets face it, who else is going to take that kind of crap?

Sometimes in life, it's very very hard to be positive and see light at the end of the tunnel. And with alcholism this is never more true. Just when you think the situation has reached its most destructive and desperate, you cross new frontiers of deceit, betrayal and let down. Pathological lying is second nature for addicts. As is selfishness and self-absorbedness. Your problems are so much worse than everyone elses. In fact no-one else has any.....do they?

Alcholism is a disease. We're all told it. We all know it. So why does it feel like such a pathetic let down when after 4 months of rehab and brainwashing, someone gives in to the cravings immediately. Without any fight. But what must it be like to spend every waking moment thinking 'vodka vodka vodka vodka'. Wondering when you get to escape prying eyes, dart to the off license, neck some booze and get back before you're noticed. Wondering what lies you can tell to create an effective smoke screen. Lies, lies, lies and deceit. vodka vodka vodka vodka vodka vodka.

F**k everyone else. All the hurt, and recrimination and blame and sense of responsibility. F*ck everyone else.

Time after time we're all forced to question our roles, to reconsider whether we're doing the best thing. We're backed into desperate corners where communication breaks down and we bicker and we doubt and we're troubled. And for what? If we didn't care at all, it would barely make a difference.

What makes someone want to get better? If you are so terminally unhappy with life, is it wrong to think that someone might actually be genuinely better off dead. Is this the ultimate goal, a deliberate drive towards death, or is she just an alcoholic making lots of noise as she's terrified of being ignored and lonely. As one of my great friends said, at least when she drinks, she gets attention.