Kinda cut the last one short...

So I was completely serious when I said mom had od'd.
I had gone into the bathroom because mom's bath was taking entirely too long. So I opened the shower door and found her with her face partially underwater. After several unsuccessful attempts to make her sit up I called Mitchell in who realized she wasn't just drunk as I had suspected.
She said she took 30 trazadone (sleeping pills hat she has a prescription for). Or rather, mumbled that she had. She couldn't really talk and I don't think she knew we were there. So I called Roger and then dad called 911 who took a ridiculously long time to get her ("You need to mark your driveway better" yeah, we'll get right on that. Now could you go get my practically comatose mother to the god damned hospital please?)

So we went to the hospital after the ambulance left. Basically we waited there for a few hours while they ran tests on her and asked us dumb fucking questions ("How do you know she drinks if you don't know where she keeps it?"- some dumb ass EMT that I wanted to punch in the idiot mouth if he hadn't been 2 feet taller than me) Then Ginger and Roger showed up and sat with us in the waiting room. They also invited their minister to come sit with us which made me want to go up to the maternity ward and kick every bassinet and stomp on the enclosed babies after I heard what she had to say ("We pray to you, great Lord, that everything will work out. While we may not understand your plan all the time, we trust in you to show us the way"- paraphrased, but seriously? No, fuck you. This great fucking god of yours has let both of my parents attempt suicide before I can even legally drive. So fuck you, fuck your sermon, and fuck your great fucking plan for us all because I want no part of it.)

So then they admitted her and dad spent the night at the hospital while Ginger and roger took us home because Bubbles and his friend Jimmy were already there waiting for us.

She's in ICU, sedated so she can get through the DT's. Her blood alcohol level was 2.61 when she was brought in, so if she was n0rmal, she would have been fucked up even without the trazadone.

And we're losing our house. That's what started the whole thing. I found he letter in the mail, showed it to Mitchell who went out and asked mom what the fuck it was about. Apparently she hasn't paid the mortgage in 9 months. She told him to kill her so we could use the insurance to buy the house back. He declined her offer, so she took it upon herself.

I'm constantly on the verge of breaking down, but for some reason I won't let myself. I'm not sure what will happen when I do. I told Zach I would try to warn him before I did so he could take cover. He's being tremendously supportive and I appreciate it. I haven't really cried since I found her and realized what was going on.
Maybe it hasn't hit me yet? I dunno. It will in its' own time and I'm not sure if I'll be ready when it does.