Every day

I've been riding a rollercoaster of emotions, and I think I've finally settled in to my new "life". I'm starting to realize there's always going to be a hole in my heart, and that it's OK to cry. I can't continue to torture myself with the would've should've could'ves. It is what it is, she made her decisions about life and I made mine.

I know there's a lot of resentment towards me because I moved away. I "couldn't handle" my parents and their choices. I had to move- I wanted to live. Moving to Georgia meant saving my own life. Going down in flames with the rest of them was something I wasn't willing to do. Nor did I, or anyone else for that matter, deserve it.

When we were meeting with the doctors about making the final decisions regarding Mom- which was the most awful thing I'll ever have to do- we learned the extent of Mom's health and addiction. Her liver stopped function, and the doctor said even if there was a .1% chance she'd come out of it she'd need a new liver which required her to be sober for at least 6 months. My sister said "I'll move her in with me, I'll make her stop..." the doctor, and I both said even if she didn't have a baby on the way, do you really think she'll stop drinking? Jenny finally said..."No, that's just not going to happen".

The first time she had ever admitted the extent of her addiction.

As we started to accept Mom's fate, holding hands and crying, Jen and I opened a long closed door. We loved each other, there was no jealousy from her, no self-righteous and judgemental behavior from me. I was losing my Mom, but I was gaining my sister.

One thing the Doctor said that stayed with me was "You can die today, or you can die every day". I've been thinking about that more and more. That's why I decided to pull myself up out of this pit before I was in too deep. I died everyday thinking about her, drowning in guilt. No more- I want to live!