Cocktails

Cocktails

Lately I have started drinking again. Nothing major, just a shot of gin here and there, but the last few nights I have been wanting more than that. I actually have been craving the alcohol. I have been a binge drinker in the past so I am trying to stop it but I don’t think I can. And with the amount of pain meds I take, drinking that hard would be a disaster.

I have had a hell of a day. I really need to shower because not only did I crap myself, I also leaked. Fun. I swear next week I am getting the damn diapers so I don’t have to worry about soiling my underwear anymore. Oh and the weather decided to be back up to almost 80 and be muggy. I thought we were done with this shit. So I guess it was good I didn’t shower this morning like I wanted to because I would have to shower again tonight. I am waiting for my pain meds to kick in so I can stand long enough to do this task.

I had to deal with my father today, which is mostly the reason I drink. He just brings out the best of me because I have no other outlet. Today I spent all morning and most of the afternoon waiting for the stupid visiting nurse to deal with him. The nurse on Sunday got all his fucking meds wrong. What a fucking airhead. And today’s nurse had to look at all the bottles because I could be lying. No, I know what my father is taking, thank you very much. I go to each and every one of his medical appointments. I am his “secretary” when it comes to his medical stuff. Thing is, I am supposed to schedule his PCP appointment some how in the next two weeks and to fill him in on what has been going on. Yea, like I don’t have my own medical drama going on. Because I forgot and my app remembered, I didn’t take my blood pressure meds this morning. I didn’t think I was going to be all fucking day with this man and his stories. I spent the better part of my life with him and now as an adult, I realize I don’t have to have him in my life, but yet he is still there. Why I don’t know. Guilt is one reason. Responsibility is the other. And being the oldest, it falls on my shoulders. Today I was tested and tried. And that gin that I have been staring at since I got home is calling my name.

So I called my therapist and told her the pickle I am in. She flipped out on me. She didn’t like the thoughts of my pain meds being mixed with alcohol of any kind. I got reprimanded. Hell, I even got the don’t take any of my pain meds lecture. That is when I zoned out on her. I need my pain meds if I am to survive in this world. And when my ankle was telling me to fuck off today, I had to take something for it. Now it is a little bit more happy so I can possibly take a shower today and get out of the stinking clothes that I am in. My father made peppers and eggs and the smell got into my clothes. It is making my stomach do flip flops, which it has been doing all day because I got a migraine. I should have known today was going to be a bad day when I started gagging when I was at the bus stop this morning. And the coffee didn’t help me much. It helped with the headache and drowsiness, but did little to calm my stomach.

I am sure that gin is not going to help my stomach either. I hope tonight I can keep my word to my therapist that I won’t have a sip. But it does help me sleep good so I am weighing things in. Beside yell at me, there is nothing more she can do. I don’t know why my father aggravates me so much. Even at his medical appointment, he had to go on and on about his work history. The doctor, who is a really nice guy, was obliging to his stories that I have heard only a million times.

Now my mother is making broccoli rabi. I cannot stand the smell or taste of this damn vegetable. Maybe I will have just one sip of gin to calm the damn nerves…