The Morning Of February 9: Decision Time

I got up early as always, did my internet business and then got Chuck up to get ready for mountain job.  Charlie was already up, or should I say, he never went to bed.  I think from the time he left the house the night before until that morning he had been drinking.

He was heading for a crisis, I knew it, he knew it.  He was sitting on the stool in the kitchen while I was making breakfast and lunches.  I decided that I had had enough and I was going to get tough with him, tough love you know.

I yelled, I admit it.  I told him that the only thing separating him from now and the life of his dreams was a shooter bottle of vodka.  That he could have anything, be anything, do anything, if he could just stop drinking.  That I would do anything I could to help him, if he would just help himself.  I begged with him to stop, I pleaded with him to stop.

Empty words.  Because he knew and I knew that there was no way to actually help him, other than AA and he was already doing that on a regular basis.  There was no way to get him treatment because we didn’t have the fucking money to do it.  But, still, I kept at it.

And I compared him to Robin, saying that he needed to get help or he would end up like she did.  He gave me the oddest look, prolonged, it scared me.  I said, what?  what?  He replied, you know, Robin is dead?  Do you want me to die?  I said, no of course not, don’t play stupid with me.  You misunderstood on purpose.  Of course I don’t want you to die.  I want you to live.  I want you to have a great life.  And you can’t if you keep going the way you are going.

And he mentioned Andrew and that he was in mourning.  And then I really yelled.  I yelled that he had to quit using excuses to justify his drinking.  If he needed grief counseling to be able to find a way to accept Andrew’s death, then I would help him find a way to make that happen.  And then we went through the entire argument again.

And finally, I looked him in the eye and asked if he could wait until evening for me to take him to the ER.  I asked him and stared into his eyes, trying to see if he could.  It was only a few seconds, but, now it feels like it was forever.  I weighed my 2 choice for that day in those split seconds while I was staring into those eyes.  Stay home with you and take you immediately to get the help you need.  Go with your father to meet the park ranger and then help him finish the weeks work so we can get paid, so we can keep afloat for another week.  Stay home and help you, go to work and help your father.

He broke the spell with a crooked smile and said to go.  I told him that when I got home, I was going to take him to the ER for detox.  He said, “I am not going to Arapahoe House, you can’t make me”.  I said no, not there, but a real ER with a hospital behind it, not the stupid place on 84th.  I told him I would stay the whole time and if they tried to strap him down or force him to do anything against his will I would put my body between them and him.  He agreed.  We hugged on it and I finished getting ready.

Chuck and I were standing at the truck and Charlie was standing on the porch.  I said, ok, this is not the day to leave angry or without hugs. Your dad and I may meet the mountain lion and he may eat one of us.  So, let’s not leave angry with each other like this.  Charlie laughed and said, yes, that is true.  He ran down the steps and gave each of us a hug.  I love you mom, I love you dad.  Have a great day.  I love you too son, stay out of trouble and we will see you tonight.  I love you too Char, remember, be ready to go to the ER when we get back.