Crumbled

I am always amazed at how someone else's addiction can change me.  I'm not a loud person. I'm not mean. I'm usually pretty quiet and calm.  Not last night.  I didn't have a bad day. I wasn't feeling bad, but when I got home (yes, my daughter is drinking, again) something snapped.  I confronted her and just said the most horrible things. I called her a liar, weak, told her I hated her when she was drinking. I'm not going to say everything, because I'm ashamed of all of the words that I threw at her and that I blew up like that.  I even kicked this chest I had made her that was on the lower shelf of a bookcase, and down came several other trinkets.  She sat there looking at me like I was deranged.  Well, I guess I was. 

I haven't felt like this in awhile. I was feeling so calm and resigned to the situation.  I was letting hope go like a child's balloon in the wind.  And then, all of a sudden this rage rumbled up and I'm screaming like a banshee. 

I'm drained.  Part of me wants to take it back and apologize.  Part of me doesn't because some of it I meant, but not in the way I said it. 

I feel so drained and isolated inside. 

Trying to be so strong and rigid, I guess I crumbled.