u/Historical_Field_554

My mother’s drinking problem started from when I could remember to even begin to form a thought.
As long as I’ve been alive my mother has always drunk alcohol. It’s the thing she lived by. (Don’t want to give out too much information as I don’t want this to be under her suspicion) but I found out that she had been living a double life. Cheated on my dad and proceeded to still live here like nothing was ever happening.
The drinking only got worse after I had became a teenager. What had established the line between good parenting and alcoholism, my mom later then started beating me for every little single thing I did. And then she would act like nothing happened. Often, she would cook my “favorite meals” after literally beating me over not being able to get her her car keys, or every time I got a bad grade (I wasn’t that smart growing up because according to my dad I struggled to learn at the pace that other children would normally be)
Come to find out that somewhere around 2016-17ish? Her dad (my grandpa that I never met because he lived in Mexico) passed away. That’s when everything just went downhill from there.
There was so many problems between me and my mother due to me withdrawing from my own mother at a constant fear of getting beat and having to walk on eggshells all the time. And then THERE WAS THAT SAME. PROBLEM. AGAIN.
She would act like nothing has ever happened.
Due to her heavy alcohol consumption, she has Type 1 Diabetes & Bipolar Disorder.
I wanted nothing more than to just be at peace for once in my life since she would CONSTANTLY. have episodes. But of course….my mother didn’t listen.
She drank.
And drank.
Went to the hospital a couple times because she had a diabetic attack? I’m not sure how to describe it but the doctors told me that. I remember it as clear as day. She was shaking. tremendously. And only instructed me to drive her to the hospital. And did just that.
Fast forward a few years: I was 18 turning 19 years old. And at this point in my life, my mother didn’t listen to anyone anymore. She didn’t listen to my dad, my sisters, or me as a matter of fact, and just continued on drinking.
My question was: “Why?” “What do you benefit from drinking alcohol?” She had diabetes and was mentally unstable (sometimes) and she KNEW that and still proceeded to drink.
Then I began to hate alcohol because it literally destroyed not only her life, but everyone’s here.
On the beginning of May of this year, just a few days before Mother’s Day.
I get woken up by my dad telling me that I had to call out of work (me and him work together) because my mother had been pulled over by the police.
And was taken to jail.
And was in the process of getting into ICE custody.
All because she was Driving Under The Influence of Alcohol
Took a breathalyzer and blew a BAC of 0.10.
My mom, the woman who gave birth to me, the woman who always laid her hands on me even when I was in the right at tough times, was getting deported.
Was out there driving with a 12 empty bottle pack that she finished btw in her passenger seat with bloodshot eyes.
I didn’t know what to do anymore or how to feel.
It made me feel different when my family members slowly but surely began opening up to me about my mother. And I get told the truth. That maybe some parents just don’t deserve to be parents🤷🏻‍♂️and as afraid as I am to admit it, her own mother told me that she just wasn’t meant to be a mom.
And now, it’s just me, my father, and my brother.
After a long few months of waiting, she makes it back home in Mexico. And I’m getting peer pressured by all of my family to just forget and forgive her because she’s your mother and she gave birth to you.
I’m so lost. I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. And now because she’s thousands of miles away, she keeps trying to check in on me every few times but I decide to ignore it.
I’m not going to open up about my life here but I’ve made the decision (probably temporarily) to not want her in my life.
Not after everything she’s done to me. There are literal scars that she left on my body. I’ve tried to tell her to get help, we all did. As a family.
So as of right now in a couple weeks, I will be turning 21. My life has just begun but also might have been turned around all because of alcohol addiction.

Here’s a short but brief TL;DR:
Mom gets deported after drunk driving. Mom wasn’t the best of mothers out there and had an alcoholic addiction. Offered help but refused. Do I have the right as a human being/her own son to not want my own birth mother around in my life anymore?? Am I making a mistake?

I really appreciate it to the people who took the time out of their day to either read all of it or skimming through it and for those people, I wanna say thank you!! Really could use sum advice here.

Graduate Class of 2024 here in Oklahoma.
I didn’t wanna do anything after high school but given the amount of time… (2 years) I’ve been thinking about wanting welding to become my main profession.
I currently work at a shop as a welder but NOT really a welder..
I tack weld these cages that create a pipe form (I work at a concrete manufacturer) and it’s been MY DREAM to weld.
But I’ve been told by many certified welders at my job (other various jobs too) that if you want to weld, you’re gonna want to want it badly as it’s a competitive job.
So I also need to know from experienced welders if it’s really true that if I want to become a Welder, I have to go to school for it. Because if I do end up going to a trade school just to be put on a job site and suddenly one mistake will get me fired then all of it would have been for nothing, I just need to know if I’m gonna be making a permanent good career decision or not since I have a lot of options for career advancements and don’t want to waste almost 9-12 months on something that I’m not good at.

TL;DR : Graduated high school. Went to a community college for a temporary while and quit that. Want to become a Welder. I have no absolute experience in actually welding. (Besides tacking and practicing my beads)
Do I still have hope on becoming a Welder?

My mother’s drinking problem started from when I could remember to even begin to form a thought.
As long as I’ve been alive my mother has always drunk alcohol. It’s the thing she lived by. (Don’t want to give out too much information as I don’t want this to be under her suspicion) but I found out that she had been living a double life. Cheated on my dad and proceeded to still live here like nothing was ever happening.
The drinking only got worse after I had became a teenager. What had established the line between good parenting and alcoholism, my mom later then started beating me for every little single thing I did. And then she would act like nothing happened. Often, she would cook my “favorite meals” after literally beating me over not being able to get her her car keys, or every time I got a bad grade (I wasn’t that smart growing up because according to my dad I struggled to learn at the pace that other children would normally be)
Come to find out that somewhere around 2016-17ish? Her dad (my grandpa that I never met because he lived in Mexico) passed away. That’s when everything just went downhill from there.
There was so many problems between me and my mother due to me withdrawing from my own mother at a constant fear of getting beat and having to walk on eggshells all the time. And then THERE WAS THAT SAME. PROBLEM. AGAIN.
She would act like nothing has ever happened.
Due to her heavy alcohol consumption, she has Type 1 Diabetes & Bipolar Disorder.
I wanted nothing more than to just be at peace for once in my life since she would CONSTANTLY. have episodes. But of course….my mother didn’t listen.
She drank.
And drank.
Went to the hospital a couple times because she had a diabetic attack? I’m not sure how to describe it but the doctors told me that. I remember it as clear as day. She was shaking. tremendously. And only instructed me to drive her to the hospital. And did just that.
Fast forward a few years: I was 18 turning 19 years old. And at this point in my life, my mother didn’t listen to anyone anymore. She didn’t listen to my dad, my sisters, or me as a matter of fact, and just continued on drinking.
My question was: “Why?” “What do you benefit from drinking alcohol?” She had diabetes and was mentally unstable (sometimes) and she KNEW that and still proceeded to drink.
Then I began to hate alcohol because it literally destroyed not only her life, but everyone’s here.
On the beginning of May of this year, just a few days before Mother’s Day.
I get woken up by my dad telling me that I had to call out of work (me and him work together) because my mother had been pulled over by the police.
And was taken to jail.
And was in the process of getting into ICE custody.
All because she was Driving Under The Influence of Alcohol
Took a breathalyzer and blew a BAC of 0.10.
My mom, the woman who gave birth to me, the woman who always laid her hands on me even when I was in the right at tough times, was getting deported.
Was out there driving with a 12 empty bottle pack that she finished btw in her passenger seat with bloodshot eyes.
I didn’t know what to do anymore or how to feel.
It made me feel different when my family members slowly but surely began opening up to me about my mother. And I get told the truth. That maybe some parents just don’t deserve to be parents🤷🏻‍♂️and as afraid as I am to admit it, her own mother told me that she just wasn’t meant to be a mom.
And now, it’s just me, my father, and my brother.
After a long few months of waiting, she makes it back home in Mexico. And I’m getting peer pressured by all of my family to just forget and forgive her because she’s your mother and she gave birth to you.
I’m so lost. I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. And now because she’s thousands of miles away, she keeps trying to check in on me every few times but I decide to ignore it.
I’m not going to open up about my life here but I’ve made the decision (probably temporarily) to not want her in my life.
Not after everything she’s done to me. There are literal scars that she left on my body. I’ve tried to tell her to get help, we all did. As a family.
So as of right now in a couple weeks, I will be turning 21. My life has just begun but also might have been turned around all because of alcohol addiction.

Here’s a short but brief TL;DR:
Mom gets deported after drunk driving. Mom wasn’t the best of mothers out there and had an alcoholic addiction. Offered help but refused. Do I have the right as a human being/her own son to not want my own birth mother around in my life anymore?? Am I making a mistake?

I really appreciate it to the people who took the time out of their day to either read all of it or skimming through it and for those people, I wanna say thank you!! Really could use sum advice here.

I will never forget the day it happened. My dad hugging me for the first time…actually hearing him, seeing him, express those emotions. My brother just burying himself into my dad’s arms, my sister’s crying and crying until they were turning red, my cousins hugging each other, my aunties all in one room. Some were crying; others were just angry. It all felt not real. Like if I was watching an episode of a drama. He wasn’t already feeling too well my grandfather. His name was Enrique. He raised the best dad in the world and the greatest most respected hard working man known to be as my father.
My Grandfather had worked blue collar all his life, drank alcohol, smoked a pack a day. At first it was seeming like he was living life normally. Until he got….COVID.
Not only did he get it once.
But twice.
He. Got. Covid. Twice. And successfully recovered thank goodness.
But it all came at a cost. All of those years working since he was 12, sleep deprived, working blue collar jobs, working multiple jobs, ALL WHILE MAINTAINING my grandmother, my two Aunts (during the time but my aunt moved out so that just leaves to one aunt living and taking care of my grandfather) and my aunts family. Her husband, herself, her oldest being autistic, their second oldest, then the third, then two baby girls. He was maintaining EIGHT. EIGHT FREAKING PEOPLE INSIDE THE HOUSE. Also not including the pets as well.
I had gotten a phone call from My Grandfather asking me how I was doing.
He sounded very and I mean. Very very tired.
“Hola Miguel, How are you Grandson?”
…
and I had told my boss that I needed just a singular minute.
I was apologizing to my grandfather for not being there for him and that I wish I could turn back time to when he never got sick. He told me to never look back at the past and to keep moving forward and that he’ll wait for me to come back to town so he can say his “final goodbyes” to me.
My Grandfather…Enrique…building a life here in the U.S. from scratch…knew that he was dying.
I just broke down.
This couldn’t be happening. Why Me? Why My Grandfather? What did he ever do? Will it ever be the same?
Every weekend we went to go visit him and as each visit was a happy time reminiscing about his past and reminiscing about him raising me (For a temporary while; My Grandfather had raised me) his health was beginning to deteriorate. Until one day..he was shaking aggressively, mouth open, couldn’t breathe, his lungs hurt, his stomach hurt, his legs hurt, he was literally. rotting. in. his. own. bed.
When I saw him in that state I just broke down in my dad’s arms. My Grandmother had told us “No matter how much medication we give him. His body is still actively failing him as of right now. The doctors said they could potentially treat him but it would cost $1 million u.s. dollars”
$1 f\*\*\*\*\*\*. Million. Dollars.
There wasn’t any hope left for us.
Only thing we knew that was coming was his body just naturally shutting down on him while him being conscious.
He was only 60 years old.
His death was confusing for me at first. Everyone was crying, everyone was mad and yelling at the doctors, but I was just too busy comforting all of my family members for me to even realize that I was the one needing comfort just as much.
It would only really be when I think about him is when I start to heavily cry.
I’m not sure how to handle his death and I honestly don’t think therapy is gonna help because my family is falling apart now that I don’t have a mother figure in my life anymore and my uncle just now getting deported.
So to let out a little stress like any normal person would…
I bought my first cigarette box. Just like how My Grandfather did.
Lit up my lighter, I could smell the tobacco leaf burning up, the scent catching onto my clothes, my breath smelling terrible but it all felt…so good. To just breathe in and breathe out.
But I wasn’t breathing in and out because I was meditating.
I was breathing in and breathing out because I was smoking.
I knew the potential risks that Cigarettes have.
I was inhaling and exhaling tobacco smoke and carbon monoxide.
I could feel The Nicotine really takeover.
Then turned to Maria Jane.
Then turned to Alcohol.

I’m not sure what to do with myself anymore.

And I still have a little time left, a little human decency left, a little bit of my pride left to quit everything before it quickly turns into an addiction.

What genre is PTV for when they dropped A Flair For The Dramatic? My ex co-worker had told me that they were just post hardcore and that their music was giving off the same similar vibes as this other band called Alexisonfire. And it’s driving me crazy because they don’t have a definitive genre other than 90% of songs say they are “Alternative Rock”???