If I’m being truthful, I was aware this day might come. My mother, born the same year “Sports Illustrated” debuted, was a fiercely stubborn woman. Despite facing numerous hardships—losing her husband in 1996 and her job in 2001 and again in 2013—she was often unkind. She frequently uttered phrases like “screw him” or “forget that.” After my father’s death, grief consumed her, leaving her a mere shadow of her former self. For 24 years, she lived in the suffocating grip of despair. Things worsened in 2013 when she lost her job, followed closely by the death of her mother-in-law. It was then that she turned to alcohol, becoming an alcoholic in her 50s.
I attempted to intervene. Two years before her passing, my husband—a recovered alcoholic—and I orchestrated an intervention. We reached out to her, hoping to show her that she didn’t have to navigate this struggle alone. Yet, our efforts were fruitless; her illness rendered her stubborn and unwilling to seek help. Tragically, she never reached a point of true desperation, as her “rock bottom” would be her untimely end.
We mourned her on July 3, masked up due to COVID-19, and buried her alone on July 26. While the pandemic complicated our grieving process, the loss of a loved one to addiction brings its own unique challenges—anger, guilt, sadness, and shame. There’s disappointment and heartbreak, anguish and remorse. I find myself grieving not just her death but the life she could have led, the moments we should have shared.
When addiction claims a loved one, a heavy weight of responsibility and regret often lingers. Though I know rationally that I couldn’t change the outcome, I often find myself blaming myself. I shouldn’t have offered her drinks during family gatherings. I should have barged into her home and disposed of her alcohol. As I distanced myself in her final year, opting for tough love, I realize now that it only led to feelings of failure, which is an unbearable burden to carry. The sadness is profound and overwhelming.
The loss feels like a theft, a cruel trick played by fate. There’s a simmering anger within me because things could have been different. Help was available, yet she chose to ignore it. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there’s a strange sense of relief. I no longer live in fear of what might happen next; the worst has already occurred.
It’s vital to understand that addiction is not merely a sign of weakness or a lack of willpower; it’s a complex illness that alters brain structure. Recognizing this does not ease the pain; it complicates the grieving process in ways that are still unfolding for me. I seek therapy to navigate the pain, shame, guilt, and trauma. I engage in running, journaling, and writing to process my emotions. I prioritize self-care and speak openly about my mother’s addiction, hoping to break the silence and stigma so that others don’t feel isolated.
If you or someone you know is grappling with the effects of alcohol or addiction, know that there is help and hope available. For more information, check out resources like this link or visit this page for excellent guidance on these matters. Also, explore one of our other blog posts for additional insights on related topics at this post.
Summary:
Losing a loved one to addiction is a deeply complex experience filled with a mix of emotions, including grief, guilt, and anger. While acknowledging the illness of addiction as a serious disease, the author reflects on their personal journey of mourning their mother, who succumbed to alcoholism. They emphasize the importance of seeking help and breaking the stigma surrounding addiction, while also sharing the process of coping through therapy and open dialogue.
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