This article might be helpful for anyone who is watching a loved one die from alcohol addiction disease, and it’s subsequent effect on the liver. It’s stunningly honest and frank, and faces head-on some issues that are difficult to talk about. I hope it might give support and a feeling of “not being alone” to some in this group.
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I think having to cope with a bereavement of a loved one who had an alcohol problem is a personal issue full of mixed emotions. What might work for one person, may not work for others.
I lived with my then-partner back in the mid-80s. Her life was a mess. Her story wasn’t a happy one, and I suspect I was the only person who understood her history and issues.
It all started one afternoon before I happened to know her. She was living in Edgeware North London, and she had gone up to collect her daughters from school. Colette was a single parent at the time.
On the way home, she had gone round to visit her mother who lived close to the school. Getting no answer from the front door, Colette went around the back and entered the kitchen through the back door. Here she found her mother lying on the floor in a pool of blood with her throat cut.
Colette’s first instinct was to stop her daughters from entering the house and from seeing the bloody carnage. She then called the police.
At the inquest, Colette was told that it was suicide and that her mother had taken her own life. But Colette was convinced she had been murdered. Her throat had been cut from left to right, but her mother was left-handed, which made the cut almost impossible.
Colette had two issues, she couldn't grief the death of her mother because she had to be strong for her children. This was compounded by the injustice of the whole case. She hit the bottle hard and suffered from deep depression and mental health issues. Her daughters ended up being taking into care and Colette was classed as an unfit mother.
When I first got to know Colette, I really wanted to help and get her to turn her life around. I managed to get her children to come home again temporarily, but Colette struggled to cope. I don’t know how she did it, but her daughters always had clean clothes and food to eat. But once they had gone to bed, out would come the bottle and she’d change. She would become aggressive.
I lived with Colette for 11 years, and it was hard. At times I used to dread going home for fear of not knowing what state I would find her in. Her drinking became worse and she was taking sleeping tablets and anti-depressants. Finally, it all became too much for her and I feared for the children's welfare. I contacted social services and they went back into the care system.
Some months later, Colette took her own life.
For about 8-months afterwards, I think I felt every known emotion. There was guilt, a feeling of anger and bitterness. I felt I had failed her. I blamed myself for not doing enough. What I found interesting, was that these emotions and feelings became very personal. They were after all mine, and I owned them.
When someone with the best of intentions said things like, “I lost my brother last year, I know just what you're going through”. My reply was often sharp, after all, how could they understand my feelings and my thoughts? These were my feelings, I owned them. They were mine and no one else's. So how could they possibly know.
Greif is a strange animal, and there is no secret for getting over it. Some can take weeks, while others never do get over a loss.
Twelve months after Colette had died, I decided I had grieved long enough. I had just been made redundant and so treated myself to a two-week holiday in Egypt. It was a package deal which included four nights in Luxor, followed by four nights in Cairo, then onto Haggadah, on the Red Sea for four nights, before returning to Luxor for two further nights and flying home.
On the fourth day of the holiday, I was walking around Karnak Temple taking in all these wonderful sights and it suddenly struck me. I had all these wondrous sights, and no one in my life to share them with. I felt so empty and alone.
I had a mental breakdown and had to beg the tour operators to get me back home on the next available flight. I never did make it to Cairo.
I have seen and lived on both sides of the alcohol world. I have been a long batted husband, who later went on to develop his own alcohol issues, having to cope with failure and bereavement.
I mention this because I can totally empathise with Rebecca Johnson’s story.
Thanks for posting it up Mary Lynne, I sincerely hope it is of help to many others out there.
Oh Richard...that's really bought a tear to my eye.....grief is a difficult one to handle.....it affects every one so differently....after loosing my lovely dad earlier this year......I still know the grief hasn't really been dealt with....which for me I know isn't good. Thank you for sharing your thoughts. My best .Chris
Very sad to read both stories. The American Diplomat was very moving but her family remained strong for her and never gave up hope. Such a supporting family their mother had. Richard Allen's too was straight from his heart and very honest. Both accounts brought tears to my eyes but couldn't resist reading them.
Thank you for sharing this. I lost my sister to alcoholism just before last Christmas. The depiction of the surprise and regret the mother had when she was admitted to hospital really resonated with me. It always broke my heart to see and hear her so vulnerable but each time my sister was out of rehab or hospital the drinking began again (within hours if she could). In the end she collapsed at home at 50 years of age and was unable to be revived. She was living with my mum at the time and had for years. Her husband had packed up the 4 children ( her life) and left 2.5 years before. She was estranged from her children (ages ranging from 12-23)I try to keep occasional contact but don’t like to push. They have a dominant father and didn’t attend the funeral. I often wonder how they are coping and are going to cope in the future. She was an awesome mum. A dance mum, a soccer mum and a paediatric nurse. I feel regret for them not visiting once in a while. Yes, she would probably have had a few drinks but she would have been happy and pleasant and I would have been there. I also understand why they didn’t visit. Alcohol provides a no win situation. It is a horrible death.
I almost fell for its draw also. I was drinking way too much but was lucky that I had a supportive family to help me. This disease will hopefully stop with me. If it continues with my children I hope they will be aware early and educated well on this drug.
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