I’ve posted here a few times before about my extremely turbulent relationship with “Mary” (not her real name — and I’ve never called her mum).
My childhood was filled with abuse and neglect, all of it fuelled by alcohol, so this has been a long, long story and a long time coming.
Over the last few weeks her drinking has taken a serious nosedive. It’s terrifying to watch, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think she has long to live if nothing changes.
I spoke to her today and, for the first time ever, she actually acknowledged that she might need inpatient treatment. She’s told me she’s contacted her GP and is waiting to hear back about a referral.
I want to believe this is real, but I’m full of nervous anticipation. I don’t know whether this is genuine progress or just another stalling tactic. I’ve heard promises before. At the same time, I’m clinging to a small bit of hope, because if this is real, it could save her life.
How do you cope with the waiting, the not knowing, and trying to protect yourself from getting your hopes up again?