felicula: A dark image of a week-old tabby kitten sitting in the palm of my hand. (aidan)
([personal profile] felicula Jan. 17th, 2006 09:53 am)


I fall asleep with it on my mind, so guess what happens?

The setting is an odd combination. When I am "at home" it's a larger version of one of the rooms in my parents' basement. I'm staying there, completely unfurnished even though it's a finished room. I'm attending college in a place that looks like a cross between UB North and SUNY Oswego, but most of the professors there are ones I had at MCC. A couple of my Oswego art profs were thrown in for good measure.

Thing is, I was in the basement room and so were my parents. My dad wasn't lethargic-drunk. He was the kind of drunk where he is always confused and is almost violently opposed to anything that confuses him. He was talking to my mom as if I wasn't there. He was asking her why I was there, why I was staying with them. And his argument against me staying there was that I was worthless. I started to cry. Only then did he show any acknowledgement that I was there. He started acting like he hadn't said anything and both he and my mom acted like nothing had been said when I called them on it. They kept up the act until I felt like I was going out of my mind.

Then I had to go to class. I didn't want to. I wanted to curl up in a corner of the hard tile floor and cry. I felt like he was right, like I really was worthless. I went anyways, but I was close to tears the whole time and very distracted. Professors were wondering why I was off, but I felt scared to say anything. I wandered throughout a day of classes in a haze of feeling absolutely awful.

And then I woke up, knowing I had to call my mom and ask if he really was drunk yesterday.

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.
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felicula: A dark image of a week-old tabby kitten sitting in the palm of my hand. (Default)
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