The last conversation I had with my mother was on June 19, 2020. It’s hard to pinpoint why I reached out that day. My family and I were on vacation, enjoying the serene beauty of the upstate trails and lakes. As I strolled down Main Street with an iced coffee in hand, everything felt peaceful and quiet — an unusual calm for me.
Given my mother’s deteriorating mental health, I often knew that some calls could wait. My therapist emphasized the importance of establishing boundaries, yet that morning, I found myself dialing her number.
For twenty minutes, we discussed everything from politics to the latest Netflix series, but it quickly became apparent that something was amiss. Her speech was erratic, slurred, and rapid; she jumped from topic to topic without pause. Paranoia gripped her thoughts — she believed her neighbor was conspiring against her and that political events would lead to her demise. Despite my attempts to remain patient, I felt my temper flare, and soon I had to end the conversation.
“I love you. Take care,” I said, but I knew she wasn’t well; she was intoxicated, and this time, she wouldn’t bounce back. A few days later, I found her unresponsive, lying in her own vomit.
While it’s somber to admit, I had been anticipating this moment. My mother’s battle with mental illness was long-standing. Since the 1990s, she had struggled with anxiety and depression, often without any professional help. By 2010, she started self-medicating with alcohol and cigarettes, and when she lost her job in 2013, her spending prioritized booze over food or shelter.
Her depression deepened over the years. She became increasingly despondent, irritable, and consumed by anger. She would sleep excessively, sometimes from 5 PM to 10 AM, or not at all, neglecting her basic hygiene. I tried to be there for her emotionally and financially, wishing I could mend her brokenness.
Caring for a mentally ill, alcoholic parent means going to great lengths to save them from their own demons. You offer help even when it’s rejected, stage interventions, and constantly remind them that they don’t have to endure this alone. The burden of addiction is heavy, and I mourned my mother’s presence while she was still alive. The flicker of hope is all you have to cling to.
However, caring for someone in such a state means sending anxious texts and holding your breath, fearing that a delayed response may indicate something catastrophic. It often feels like living in shame, hiding the depth of her struggles to avoid judgment from others. It’s confusing to reconcile the mother I knew with the person she had become; I longed to remember a vibrant woman, but only saw the broken figure before me.
This journey is exhausting and filled with guilt. My mother was undeniably ill, yet I had to establish boundaries for my own well-being. Like many children of alcoholics, I learned that I could not help her unless she chose to help herself.
Was it painful? Absolutely. The ache remains. I miss the relationship that could have been, the mother I wished she could have been. Therapy helps me process this grief, and I openly discuss her with my children, knowing deep down that her passing wasn’t anyone’s failure. She was suffering, and that reality is the hardest part of caring for a mentally ill, alcoholic parent. Understanding doesn’t ease the pain; it doesn’t save her or bring her back, but it can lead to acceptance and peace.
If you’d like to explore more about this topic, you can check out one of our other blog posts here. There are also excellent resources available, such as this guide on treatment options, which can provide valuable insight into navigating these challenges.
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Summary:
Caring for a mentally ill and alcoholic parent presents a complex emotional landscape. It involves navigating feelings of guilt, confusion, and the burden of hope. The experience can be exhausting and painful, but ultimately leads to the necessity of acceptance and self-preservation.
Keyphrase: Caring for a mentally ill alcoholic parent
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