It is not often I get to see my mother drunk, but drunk she was today. I was aghast that she had been to the grocery store and to Fat Albert's.
"What have you been taking?" I asked as she stumbled through my front door.
"Nine Xanax," she said. "Don't tell your father."
Mom stayed for hours just talking and eating my groceries. She had the munchies something terrible. Maggie was thrilled to be a benefactor of the bounty of food.
"You are not driving home!" I said as she was getting ready to leave a minute ago. "You are lucky you haven't gotten a DUI!"
"How am I going to get home?" she pleaded.
"I will drive you home and we will tell Dad you had a panic attack," I replied. "He can get your car tonight."
The sad thing is that I was envious of her altered state. I wanted to feel the release of nine Xanax, and the extreme drowsiness it would cause. I love anything that makes my reality altered or different. It has been a constant battle over the years as I continue to get addicted to sometimes the most benign things. Caffeine, Benadryl, sodas, food, you name it and I can get hooked on it. At least I now know where I get this from.