Apr. 16th, 2009

Got a call from my Aunt Cary with very few details, because she didn't have many. Vague story points so far: Something about Dad trying to walk (presumably to buy alcohol) while drunk, fell down, had to go to the hospital, was only helped by a family who I guess drove by and stopped to help. Ended up arrested, probably for trying to drive drunk because of interlock, going to jail for 5 days.

I'm scared, sad, and pissed, and I'm supposed to be meeting coworkers for drinks/appetizers at 5 (23 minutes from now). Feel like crying. Know if I call to say I can't come I will cry on the phone. Might be able to distract self if I do go, but don't want to break down in tears while there either. Not sure what to do, not enough time to decide (now 19 minutes til 5).

We thought we had seen rock bottom, but now I'm terrified to find out how far down that can go. I don't want my dad to die.
UPDATE:

fuck it. Went to meet with coworkers, had a bit of trouble finding them, but was otherwise fine. And now I don't feel so bad anymore. Got another call from my Aunt, apparently he already had his court date for his DUI and was supposed to be under house arrest. For some unknown reason, he went out of bounds (I don't know what those bounds were) so the fuzz picked him up and he may or may not be spending the last 5 days of his house arrest in actual jail? We still don't really know much.

If I think about it too much or too hard, I get sad/pissed/scared again, but for now I'm content with "FUCK IT."

There's a stupid little nagging voice in my mind saying "maybe if you called this wouldn't have happened."

FUCK IT.

He's an idiot. That is not my fault. I know this. Shut up, naggy voice, I don't want to hear it from you.

FUCK.
IT.

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anneford

March 2014

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