Anne Kennedy speaks to Penumbra recovery practitioner Dan Mushens about her relationship with alcohol, grieving for her husband and losing her faith

After courting in our teens, I married my childhood sweetheart aged 20 and we were together until the day he died in his sixties. Billy and I lived a wonderful life with each other; we worked hard, had two amazing sons and had nice holidays to places like Canada, Australia and even the Bahamas. But when he passed away seven years ago, I didn’t only lose Billy, I lost my hope and faith as well.

We were always a quiet and private couple, we did everything together and enjoyed eachothers company, we were seldom apart. Billy and I loved the outdoors and we’d often go walking up in the Highlands and spend hours fishing enjoying the peace and quiet.

We never used to go drinking in pubs or clubs except on a Friday evening when the working week was done. I’d have a Bacardi and Billy would have his pint then we’d head home. Our friends would never have considered us as ‘alcoholics’ but maybe we were. Returning home from the pub however didn’t mean our drinking was done, we’d unwind with a few bottles of wine, I’d say we were hidden drinkers.

I’ve been told I have alcohol related brain damage (ARBD) now meaning I have problems with remembering things and getting out and about. Billy passed away with alcohol related illnesses so when I think of it like that, alcohol must have impacted on us both. There’s a history of alcoholism in the family and I drink to forget whenever things get too much. Billy and I depended on each other and when he passed, I was left without my soulmate and I think I’ve used alcohol ever since to block out the grief.

I was at my worst the year following his death when I neglected myself, drank too much and even stopped eating. My weight plummeted and when I dropped to five stone I was hospitalised due to malnutrition. The sad thing is that I didn’t care; I just wanted to be back with my Billy.

Last year I sold the family home and I now live in a studio flat in a sheltered accommodation complex in Glasgow, I get a wee bit of support to help me out each day. Sometimes I can still forget to eat or take my medication so my support team help me with this. A few months ago after I’d had a few drinks I fell asleep with a pan of eggs boiling on the hob, it got all smoky and the fire service came out. They were preparing to knock down my front door but I was able to answer just in time. I often sleep during the day now; I think it’s to do with depression.

I’ve smoked all my days as well and I think I have chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD). I get chest infections regularly, I use inhalers each day and I get short of breath all the time. I don’t get out much because I feel unsteady on my feet and I’ve had a few falls over recent years and I even slipped and fractured my arm a few months ago.

However, I make it to the local shop at least every second day to get my cigarettes, groceries and alcohol but sometimes I get confused and can’t find my way home. Just last week it took me ten minutes to walk to the shop but more than an hour to find my way back. After sitting on a wall in the rain for a while, I stopped a stranger who kindly walked me back to my address. It’s hard to believe that Billy and I actually walked the West Highland Way three times, all 96 miles of it.

Now, going to the shops is as far as I get and it’s no easy task. I get my medication delivered to my door but I only see the doctor when he can make a home visit, I don’t like bothering people preferring to keep myself to myself, I’d rather suffer in silence than put people out and burden them. I don’t want to be a nuisance to anyone because I know I’ve bought all this on myself and it’s hard to accept, so this is another reason why I have a drink. I’ve been offered counselling but I’m not ready for that just yet.

I’ve not even been back to the church since Billy’s funeral. We used to go to mass together at least once a week and I even helped out at the bible class and Sunday school now and again. But to be honest I’ve lost my faith since he died, both in god and in myself. I know we all have to endure the death of our loved ones but it’s not easy and I find it hard without him. I talk to the pictures of him that hang on the living room walls each night and he speaks to me now and again. I like that.

People talk to me about the future and ask about any plans and goals I have and I never have a reply, I rarely think about tomorrow and just focus on today. Strangely I don’t think I’ve grieved for Billy yet, I’m a bit scared to do so because I’m not ready, we were together for so long, my outlook on life just isn’t the same. It might sound like I have a pessimistic outlook on life now, but I’m 66 and I feel like it’s too late to change my ways. I appreciate all the help and support that everybody gives me, I can’t fault anyone, but as long as my two boys and their families are doing alright, that makes me happy enough. I’ll think about the future another time.

Anne Kennedy was speaking to Penumbra recovery practitioner, and regular TFN blogger, Dan Mushens