At 5-something this morning I woke up from what was, perhaps, one of the more disturbing dreams I have ever had. Ever heard the superstition that if you die in a dream, you die for real? Now I know for sure that it isn't true.
( Yes, I know I generally have weird dreams. )
Right after Aidan got on the bus, I called my mom to ask her if my suspicions were correct. She said yes. I asked if it was the medical stuff last week that did it. She thought I very likely right. She said it had only been a few days, and she reassured me that she doesn't let him drive like that. (I think it's more likely that she doesn't let him drive like that when Aidan or anyone else is in the car. If he heads out alone, I doubt she could stop him.) She made a comment that she thinks he rewards himself for not drinking by drinking. I said that's like someone rewarding a diet by going out on a binge. She agreed.
I told her about my nightmare and said that I know it's just a dream. She apologized that it's having such an effect on me and asked that I try not to worry. I asked her to keep me updated. She said she would.
I know it was just a dream, but so much has actually happened like that. The real stuff was not in those exact words, but those words are what come out of it into my head. The sick part is that alcohol acts like a truth serum on me. So it's hard not to think of his drunken words as the underlying current of his psyche coming out.