I started dating my Boyfriend in January 2022. He is an amazing guy, nerdy, sweet, loving, cuddly, soft, with a big heart. I love him a lot.

However, his mom was a monster.

I'm not in the mood to write a long detail post about all what I witnessed in the first year of our relationship, but his mom was horrible to him. Trying to isolate him, a verbal and psychological abuser, a perpetual victim, a gaslighter, an extremely codependent person, who is incapable of taking care of herself, but also bites the hand that feeds her, every single time. Not only she was absolutely useless, but also would berate my BF for any or no reason.

She was also a cigarrate addict, she would never stop smoking, sometimes at their home, there would be almost nothing to eat, but she would use her last coins to get at least 2 cigarettes.

After months of trying to convince him to move out and leave her, he finally did, I paid for a truck and movers, and we took all of his things out while she was at her workplace. That was in January of this year. He moved to an unused house owned by his uncle (his dad's brother).

Life in his new place has been mostly peaceful, my boyfriend went NC and only got updates about his mom from the neighbors.

In these last weeks her health has gotten worse, and he got harassment by his mom's family (they live in another state) but he stayed firm, because all the sympathy he had for his mom drained a long while ago.

This week something in her stomach broke, the walls of the stomach broke because she was taking too much medication. She needed an emergency surgery. The harassment from the mom's family got worse, but he was just done with them, and blocked them all.

Today, it was confirmed that she died. We just don't care, it is good that we will never hear about her again, and won't bother us. One of my BF's uncles, who is a very good lawyer, will take care of all the legals, so my BF don't have to do nothing. If there is a funeral, he won't go. We doesn't want anything to do with anything.

My BF can join Jennette in the club of people who are glad their mom died. I'm glad we can have absolute peace.

So funny, she said that my BF wouldn't be able to live without her, but she didn't even last a year living on her own.

I thought that the will to act, the steps taken to face the issue, would somehow support the combat against my addiction.

It does not.

Since I took that appointment at the addiction clinic, since I had my first meeting with a very sweet nurse who was 1000% more receptive and convincing than the former "mental health professionals" I've consulted with, I had hoped confronting my issues & deciding to address them would be a first step into helping myself. A first step into reducing, even if minimally, my daily intake. Or make me at ease with the concept of living without a bottle hidden in my rucksack.

It does not.

I'm more stressed out. I'm in constant panic attacks. I'm physically sick if I don't have access to the stuff. And I'm feeling like I drink twice as much. Which I'm probably doing.

I know it's a process, a life-changing one. I know there'll be a grief period; she told me. She told me I'm the only one able to do it. No magic, no technology. Just me.

Just me and that liquid shit.

It's not like what I am politically matters in any vaguely short term context. I'd unfortunately do much better if I spent more time working on my direct lib finances or other more self directed activities

Too much time mostly just thinking about it, but sometimes readings.