I just had a fucking terrible, real, brutal revelation. I've judged my mom for her alcoholism my whole life. I've seen her as less than a whole person, stupid, weak, not worthy of respect, love. She has done so much damage, caused so much pain. Weak. Lousy. Sleazy. Shitty. But I remember her being so much more when I was small. She didn't hide in the booze because she was weak and awful and didn't give a rats ass about her kids. she did it because she was sad. Because she felt pain. Because she was trying to survive the shitty things that happened to her. Because life hurt. Why the hell was I such a snooty bitch that I didn't have even an inkling of that before?
Mind you I'm recognizing this because in drunk and blissfully numb myself and watching freaking izombie. Wtf.