Just One More

By Carol Dass

This book gives an insight into the life of a carer, Carol, whose loved one, Paul, was addicted to alcohol. Carol never gave up hope that Paul would receive treatment and become the person he always wanted to be. But it was not to be. Paul died at the age of forty-two from cirrhosis of the liver. In her book, Carol concentrates more on how loved ones can get the support they need while dealing with their loved ones addiction. She details her journey through Pauls addiction and why she founded the charity Footprints, which offered support to others in a situation similar to hers. She talks honestly about her feelings of frustration, anger, and sadness but also is honest about feeling trapped in a relationship, not knowing in which direction to move, the many relapses that happen, the trips to the ER, the suicide attempts, and the violence. But she also shows compassion for the drinker, who is also trapped in the addiction, not knowing what life will be like without their nonjudgmental friend, the bottle of alcohol.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Mar 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781490771380

Carol Dass

Carol Dass was born and raised in Wisconsin. In her early twenties, her employer gave her the opportunity to move to England and help set up an office there, where she lived for forty-one years. She met Paul, and their relationship lasted for eight years when he died at the age of forty-two as a result of his alcohol addiction. After his death, Carol realized there was very little support for those in a similar situation as hers. She was determined to offer help so no one had to suffer the isolation that she felt. Carol founded a charity, Footprints, that offered support (not judgment) to those whose lives were affected by someone’s addiction. She worked with local agencies, was a carer’s representative, and often worked one to one with families. In 2010, Carol returned to the United States and now resides in Minnesota.

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© Copyright 2016 Carol Dass.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

isbn: 978-1-4907-7139-7 (sc)

isbn: 978-1-4907-7138-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016903941

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Contents

Dedication

Introduction

A Bit About Me

Meeting Paul, The Lover

Paul, The Boy And The Man

Paul, The Artist And Deep Thinker

The Drinking

A Cry For Help

Losing A Best Friend In The Midst Of

Everything Else

Another Best Friend Nearly Lost

Waiting For The Man

The Other Women

Support Or Collusion?

Why Did I Still Care?

The Family

Footprints Into Footsteps

Sue And David

Hard Decisions

Ten Things That Worked

Ten Things That Prolonged The Darkest Times

You Could Try This…….

The Death And After

The End

The Deep Thinker

Dedication

It is my wish that this book will give hope and strength to anyone who has been affected by someone’s alcohol abuse. The person, your loved one, may be your spouse, partner, child, parent, sibling, any other relative, or friend. If their drinking is affecting you, then I hope this book will provide you with some answers and perhaps will give you some direction.

This book is about Paul and me and his drinking. We lived together for some years, with sober periods within that time, until Paul lost his battle with alcohol and died at the age of 42. Cause of death was cirrhosis of the liver, a cause Paul said he never wanted on his death certificate.

I always felt alone, trapped, indecisive and angry. I had no one to talk to, no support except for people who kept telling me what to do, which I did not need.

After Paul’s death, I realised there must be many, many other people out there like me and maybe my experience and what I learned would help them. I started a charity called Footprints, to offer support to anyone affected by someone’s alcohol dependency.

So, this book is about my journey through Paul’s alcoholism and through Footprints.

In spite of everything, Paul was a good man who wanted to change and I loved him to bits.

Paul, you may have left my life but you will never leave my heart.

Introduction

This book was written with the inspiration of someone close to me who said You need to write that book, get your thoughts and feelings out in the light. This was a statement so true and so appropriate that I began writing this at that moment, although it took me a few years to finish.

Maybe it will be just the expression of my feelings and the experiences I went through, maybe it will be a handbook for all of you out there who have gone through similar times. If so, this is a way of sharing with each other our experiences, feelings and all we went through to care for the person we loved.

And who is this person I love? My partner, Paul, died in January 2003. He would have freely admitted he was an alcoholic, suffering for years, with lots of sober times in between. But in the end, he couldn’t cope without a drink and he died from liver failure. I loved him to bits when he was alive and I still love him today.

Paul was a good man. But I hear you say: If he was such a good man, why did he drink? We all know drunks do horrible things and behave abominably. How could you continue to love him? How could you stay with him?"

Well, I’ll answer those questions, but not all at once.

And who was the person close to me who gave me the inspiration to write this? Her name is Jane, and she is Paul’s sister. But more later about my relationship with Paul’s family.

Before I really begin my story, let me share with you something I read very recently. I do not know the author, it came to me in the form of a chain letter, but it was so appropriate for me, which I will explain later.

This is a story called The Pink Dress.

The Pink Dress

There was this little girl sitting by herself in the park. Everyone passed by her and never stopped to see why she looked so sad. Dressed in a worn pink dress, barefoot and dirty, the girl just sat and watched the people go by.

She never tried to speak, she never said a word. Many people passed by her, but no one would stop.

The next day I decided to go back to the park in curiosity, to see if the little girl would still be there. Yes, she was there, right in the very spot where she was yesterday, and still with the same sad look in her eyes.

Today I was to make my own move and walk over to the little girl. For, as we all know, a park full of strange people is not a place for young children to play alone.

As I got closer, I could see the back of the little girl’s dress. It was grotesquely shaped. I figured that was the reason people just passed by and made no effort to speak to her. Deformities are a low blow to our society, and, heaven forbid if you make a step toward assisting someone who is different.

As I got closer, the little girl lowered her eyes slightly to avoid my intent stare. As I approached her, I could see the shape of her back more clearly. She was grotesquely shaped in a humped over form.

I smiled to let her know it was OK; I was there to help, to talk. I sat down beside her and opened with a simple, Hello. The little girl acted shocked, and stammered a hi, after a long stare into my eyes. I smiled and she shyly smiled back.

We talked until darkness fell and the park was completely empty. I asked the girl why she was so sad. The little girl looked at me with a sad face and said, Because, I’m different. I immediately said, That you are! and smiled. The little girl acted even sadder and said, I know.

Little girl, I said, You remind me of an angel, sweet and innocent. She looked at me and smiled, and then slowly she got to her feet and said, Really?

Yes, you’re like a little guardian angel sent to watch over all people walking by.

She nodded her head yes, and smiled.

With that she opened the back of her pink dress and allowed her wings to spread, and then she said, I am. I’m your guardian angel, with a twinkle in her eye.

I was speechless….sure I was seeing things.

She said, For once you thought of someone other than yourself. My job here is done. I got to my feet and said, Wait, why did no one stop to help an angel?

She looked at me, smiled, and said, You’re the only one that could see me, and then she was gone.

Like the person in the park, I guess I looked beyond Paul the drinker. Through the drink, I saw the good man, when he would let me see him, I saw the love he was capable of feeling, the caring and love he had for his family, his brother, sisters, parents and children. He cared for all the other people he knew who were suffering from alcoholism and tried to help them as much as he could.

Okay you say, he helped others, why couldn’t he help himself? We know from experience it’s always easier to help someone else, we can give excellent advice, but do we take it for ourselves? No, we’re too close to ourselves, and maybe, just maybe, we care more for others than we care for ourselves. If you think little of yourself, it’s easy to abuse yourself. When we think highly of ourselves, it’s much harder to cause harm to ourselves.

Jane wrote to me recently and said that we just have to see that alcoholism is an illness, just like cancer, depression and many others. Alcoholism is self-medication for the worst kind of emotional pain you can imagine.

Where did she find the words to describe alcoholism so accurately? She just knows, because she is a kind and caring person who is not afraid to stand up and say what so many of us would tiptoe around.

Yes, alcoholism is self-medication. That is why it is so hard to give up the drink. It medicates, eases the pain for a while, becomes a good and close friend and we cannot do without it, cannot cope without it. Sure we can teach other coping mechanisms, but drink has been around us for so long and been such a good and close friend, it is so very hard to abandon that friend.

You might be a ‘normal drinker’, drinking at social occasions, or sometimes getting pissed on a Saturday night, or a special occasion, then not drink for a while. That’s fine, but it probably means that you can’t understand why someone would put themselves through such physical torment, having to drink all the time.

Okay, let’s look at this….someone has cancer, goes through chemotherapy and horrendous treatment that makes you feel like hell. But you go through it because you hoped it will make a difference, take the pain away. And maybe it does, for a while, maybe forever, maybe not. Maybe there will be another