August 31, 2007:
The myth she propagates is that relapses are spontaneous, the outcome of an overpowering process which begins as churning in the stomach, builds to electricity in the nerve endings, ends after her car steers itself unwilled to the liquor store.
It's not true. She plans her relapses meticulously, like a general planning the defense of a besieged fortress.
First she clears the agenda of any plans the two of you may have for the evening. Then she arranges a food supply, typically by asking you to bring home takeout. Then she hides her alcohol supply somewhere in the house, where you can't take it away. Then she hides her keys and wallet, somewhere in the house, where you can't take them away.
Then the fun begins.
It's a deliberate and careful process requiring two or three hours from conception to fruition, a lengthy time, during which she's perfectly free to call for help, call a sponsor, call a friend, call you, steer herself to a meeting, steer herself home, steer herself to a hospital if necessary. There's as much time and opportunity to prevent the relapse as there is to organize it.
Why doesn't she?
Perhaps, because at bottom she feels entitled to drink, as she feels entitled to take whatever she wants from whomever she chooses to take it from, this "working class" girl with the celebutant acculturation.