I told my Q earlier this week that she had to move out. She has been binge drinking since then. She has only left her room to go to the bathroom. Today was the first time I heard from her. While I was at work she informed me she'd be talking to her dad and "hopefully" moved out by tomorrow. She then said she hoped to speak to me.

I prepared myself for the inevitable. I got home to a sink full of dishes from her room and a half packed suitcase in the living room. She came down almost immediately. It was like talking to a checklist.

  • The apology
  • The reference to her disease
  • The tears
  • The self deprecation
  • The request for more time ("I know I shouldn't even ask")
  • The reasons for more time ("They need a week to review my application for rehab")
  • the bargaining ("I've gotten better! I only drink once a week" not true but not arguing it)
  • The excuses ("I only did cause I was so cold from waiting for the bus for 45 minutes")
  • The lies ( "the gas station didn't have tea or coffee or hot water")
  • The anger ("it's scientifically proven that alcohol warms you up!" Because I didn't buy it)
  • The guilt ("I'm going to be homeless" "I don't even have a car" "what's the point of being alive")

I didn't argue with her. I was sympathetic but firm. I maintained my boundary. I reiterated that I loved her, but she made choices. I was specific about her trespasses and that I had to protect myself.

Now I just need to get through the weekend.

ETA: I am not my Q's parent. I'm sorry if it came across that way. She is a friend of mine and I have a caretaker personality which she has been taking advantage of for as long as I look back on our relationship. I will be more clear in the future.