Everything is still, all I hear ( I see nothing) is the gasp, every few hours, the consequence of swigging down neat Vodka. And the occasional clatter of bottles, picked up carelessly or dropped expectedly.The noise frightens my cat who sleeps on my bed. I went in to ask her how drunk she was. She told me to "leave me alone", "go away". I went.
I have just finished Christmas Dinner on my own watching Gone with the Wind (or part of it). I had to leave some of it as it was for two.
Timmy the stray can has joined me. He's still here. The picture was taken about 2 minutes after I typed the word "here". I then uploaded the image.
She'll sleep like this for 7 days except for the occasional excursion to get food or she'll shout at me to get it.
Am I being cruel to write this blog and upload the photo. NO. I am the victim. She feels no pain, has no dignity, no pride, no self esteem, no hope, no sense of responsibilty. I am the one who suffers. She needs to suffer to feel in balance with herself. She has been taught to suffer when she was a young girl.
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I'd like to hear the experiences of both alcoholics and the victims of alcoholics, please.