It often comes as a big surprise. Take Lindsay. She was the mom of a good friend of ours, and when her marriage stranded, she lost all control over her drinking.
One day her husband started an affair with a younger woman, and that was the end of it. I am not sure which problem came first though — the alcohol or the younger woman. But it’s hardly relevant now.
Her drinking habit certainly became much worse after the break-up, and at some point, the little book shop she had went bankrupt — and now booze had everything to do with it — and besides her marital problem, she now had added a financial one.
Her two daughters knew — from their father, but also from the very erratic and confusing behavior their mom had been showing lately — that the bottle had become a threat. So they saw to it that Lindsay had company, that she had some sort of a social life, and that the drinking was under control. Which she promised it was.
But heavy drinkers often lie, and so did Lindsay.
One day, they found her unresponsive at home in a puddle of blood. Apparently, her heaving drinking had caused a condition called Caput Medusae — a cluster of swollen veins in the abdomen, located near the belly button. And in her case, the veins had burst.
There was nothing the paramedics could do.
When her daughters cleaned out the house, they found dozens of empty liquor bottles hidden throughout the house. Apparently, Lindsay had concealed a secret in the final years of her short life, behind her dispirited eyes and under her badly perfumed clothes.