a day with no name

My father and I were never close after he left. I was so...alone. My brother’s went to live with him because they were too wild and I got to stay with the crazy woman. I thought the only reason she kept me was so she could get a child support check every month which I saw her trade in for vodka. I wanted to break every bottle of booze I saw on the grocery shelf. I somehow could only blame them for the unhappiness of my childhood. I did not know, until I was in my 20’s, that it wasn't my fault my mother drank. It was always, “If you kids didn’t do this or that, I wouldn’t drink.” They say it is a disease. It didn't matter to me what anyone wanted to name it. All we knew was that it terrorized and traumatized all of our lives and the only one left standing (when she wasn’t passed out) was my mother who was mostly blissfully unaware of the havoc she was wrecking. My brothers started drinking and using drugs at a very young age. I swore I would never let alcohol touch my lips. Ha! That lasted until I got into a relationship with a very cute wannabe rock star when I turned 21.