it's not a habit...it's cool.

I know what you're going to say: I'm not an addict. This song is about drugs, not alcohol. I can stop anytime I want. Don't judge how I cope. It's not a habit. I can stop anytime. Oh, did I say that already? I really can. I'll stop now. I can go for months without drinking. It makes me so mad when people tell me I'm an alcoholic...I'm not. Nothing makes me more angry than that.

Guess what? You made me promise that I'd never coddle you. You wanted someone who'd call  "me on my sh--." Someone who wouldn't enable you by having alcohol around. Be blunt. Not treat you differently because of your looks...and on and on. I told you'd I'd always be that person...but you couldn't handle being held to those standards.

You are a binge alcoholic by definition (and so much more!): 

Binge drinking is the practice of consuming large quantities of alcohol in a single session, usually defined as five or more drinks at one time for a man, or four or more drinks at one time for a woman.

Do you see where we go off the rails here? I know they didn't specifically define it as someone who drinks bottle after bottle of cheap vodka until passing out, waking up, doing it again, and again and again until weeks have passed and every pore of you reeks and it takes weeks before you'll sober up. It's repugnant. 

You showed up here wanting to change. You wanted to be held to standards because you didn't have a problem. I realize now that my mistake was you not being able to say I am an alcoholic.

We gave you space. We nurtured a love between  you and our son. I can't put into words how far mama bear I've gone...you are hurting him. You hurt me. You hurt everyone. I am so mad. He wants to eat Sour Patch Kids every day like you. He looks up to you. 

But you LOVE alcohol.

The bottle is your family. It's who you choose to hold at night and wake up to in the morning. Not family. Not love. Not even respect.

I opened up to you...hoping you'd see some way up and out of the hole you've dug. I tried to kill myself once. For real. You know that...yet still you find it in your heart to cruelly call our home at all hours with threats of suicide shaking everyone up. If you're too drunk you have your less drunk roommate make the call for you. 

You left so you could continue manipulating people around you.

You could have built your bedroom in our home. Instead you spent a grand on furniture the day you arrived on the other side of the country...and you're still sweating cheap vodka and being pathetic as you skip even further down the rabbit hole you dug for yourself. I can't believe I dared to hope you'd change when you wound up in the hospital. Silly me.

I don't want my selfish and mean behavior to hurt anyone...

That's one of my favorite quotes ::sarcasm::

I have to sit here and watch my son's big brown eyes fill to the brim with tears and ask why you left him...why you won't come back. Why you not his friend anymore. Why water is making  you sick...

...is that why he won't drink water? That's what it looked like. We said you couldn't stop drinking. I now have the pleasure of explaining drunks and alcohol to his sweet heart. 

He still believes in you.

We all love you; we gave you what you said you needed.

But now you need to be brave.

Get it together.

We'd take you back because that is what family does, BUT not until you can say I AM an addict.

...and you get help.