By Anonymous, for Commission on Alcohol Harm, 2020
Names in the story have been changed
The following is an attempt to explain the worry, anxiety, fear, sympathy etc. that I have been feeling for many years, because of David’s addiction, and the reasons why recently (in the last year or two) it has got worse because of his behaviour. He has no life, spends his days and nights on a filthy couch covered with a filthy duvet, only gets up to go to the toilet or occasionally to make himself a sandwich or fry something (which is terrifying in itself, as he has the gas up maximum). He has periods of not even going to the toilet which means he must be relieving himself in bottles or other empty vessels lying about. I offer him food and drink as I am concerned that he eats at least something decent every so often. He will eat half of what is on the plate, refuse to let me take the plate away and it, along with many others before it, gets slowly buried in the mountain of newspapers, empty cans, boxes and all manner of other debris that he is accumulating around him. A few months ago when the weather was warmer, there was another plague of fruit flies in the house.
The first was a couple of years ago when I went away for a few days with my daughter. I came home to them everywhere – breeding in the half empty cans of beer and rotting fruit that he had left lying about. On both occasions it has taken weeks to get rid of them and my stress levels have gone through the roof.
I feel my house is dirty and infested and David is completely oblivious and totally unapologetic.
Our house is now pretty much divided in two – he has the living room and the small bedroom, which is stacked so high with bags of empty cans and bottles, and more of the same debris that half fills the living room, that it is now almost impossible to open the door. The electricity meter and junction box is in this room and while the embarrassment of trying to force the door open to let electricity company staff in to read the meter is bad enough – if a fuse tripped, or worse still a fire started in there, we would be in serious danger.
And the very real likelihood of fires starting is my biggest fear, that keeps me awake at night and strikes terror in my heart nearly every time I turn the corner on my way home, and my house comes into view.
One day I’m going to be greeted by fire engines and ambulances.
David has progressed into a sort of binge drinker. Since the new year he has been pretty much sober – only drinking cans of beer, which I will buy him (maximum 4) along with his cigarettes and paper, as I know he needs to have some alcohol in his system. He struggles to walk far and going out is a huge effort for him, so rightly or wrongly, I help him. During this time he has had two periods of severe drunkenness when he has obviously forced himself to go out, and has bought vodka/wine, whatever it takes to get him very drunk and in a kind of stupor, where he rambles on and on about stuff in the past, and is very aggressive and threatening to me if I try and do or say something he doesn’t agree with. This is when my fear of him falling over all the rubbish and hurting himself badly, and, of course, starting a fire – is at its worst.
He sits in a half-lying, half-sitting position appearing to be falling asleep, with a burning down cigarette in his hand. I look at him and I think it really is only a matter of time before something terrible happens. Over the last couple of days, when he has been very drunk, he has taken to lighting his cigarettes with a kitchen blow torch. He obviously cannot find any lighters under all the debris beside him. I managed to get the blow torch away from him this morning, and also took all candle lighters, matches etc. I could find, out of the house. A knee-jerk reaction, I know – but I am now getting to the end of my rope I think. I offered to go out, there and then, and buy him a cigarette lighter, but he is impossible to reason with when he is as drunk as that, and he refused. I was leaving for work and didn’t have time to argue with him.
The above is just a fraction of my feelings, worries and fears – for myself, and also for David.
He needs help, although he doesn’t think he does – and I need help, to try and get him to see and take notice of the fact that he cannot go on living like this.
His alcohol addiction has, sadly, become something only he can address – and if he lived on his own, then it may be a different matter and only his business, although the dangers would all still be there of course. But he doesn’t live on his own – he shares a house with me, and in that respect I surely have a right to not live in constant fear of the danger his behaviour is causing. I am absolutely NOT moving out. It is my home; I have done nothing wrong and it should never be presented as an option – or the only option. There must be something that can be done or said in an official capacity, by some body or organisation or other, that will mean David has to start living like a normal human being and not in a way that causes great danger, stress and anxiety to me, danger to our neighbours and, not least, danger to himself. Vulnerable person or not – HE should be the one that the onus is on to change, or take the consequences – of which there surely has to be some.