Let's Talk About Hex

I can't get my head around it. I can't get my head around why. That is always what I am searching for.

Why?

It's such an ambiguous, such an elusive answer. Nobody really knows why really, do they? The sad fact is that it just is.

I'm sitting in my living room thinking all this. I'm just waiting for QI to come on. We've spent the day milling around each other, speaking occasionally and then just eating dinner. Repeatedly she told us to be quiet whilst she watched Casualty. I could tell that she had gone already. Gone was mum and in her place was her own personal Hyde.

It's the only way I can describe it. The only way I can make someone realise just what it is like. At one moment she is my mother: coherant, tolerant, beautiful. Then she switches. Her features sink into her face, her mouth turns down and tenses in a clowns frown. Her chin seems to sink into her neck. Her voice becomes slurred. Her walking becomes staggered.

Alcoholic.
Even the word sounds like someone drinking gin straight from a bottle.