When an Interfriention Backfires...

I went away for a girl’s weekend to celebrate a friend’s birthday. From pretty much the minute we got there, the birthday girl started drinking heavily. For the duration of the trip she was either drunk or hungover and in either state was difficult, surly and aggressive.  As it was her birthday, the rest of us organised and did pretty much everything but it seemed like the more we did for her, the worse she behaved. The weekend ended in a very strained car ride home. 

As background, my friend has a long history of binge drinking. She bounces between not drinking for a few months to only drinking gin martinis, to only drinking biodynamic, organic red wine, to secret-drinking her way through her flatmate’s bar stash. 

It’s been two weeks since the trip and none of us have heard from her. I’m still angry at her for her behaviour but I’m scared to tip her over the edge by confronting her. I’m also worried about doing nothing and where she’ll end up if she keeps going like this. What should I do?

Hey Lady,

This is a deeply shitty situation. For you, because you have had to endure it. For me, because in reading about it, I am reminded of a painful lost weekend of my own. And it’s because of that weekend and what followed that I’m going to break from regular Hey Lady programming and not serve you a proactively-scented, 5-point plan on what to do. Instead I’m going to share a story of my own…

I too had a booze-abusing friend like yours and I thought I was supportive throughout her struggles with alcohol. Possibly too supportive. Perhaps I enabled some of her behaviour by not saying anything, or enough of anything. She would have dry spells and semi-dry spells where she seemed to have her drinking under control. Looking back, this went on for years, not helped by the fact that it was mostly a long-distance friendship with just a handful of IRL meet-ups a year and she kept it masterfully contained a lot of the time. It was easy to just see the best of each other and I was also trying not to be judgey because she was a grown woman and I was not the sober police. Like you, I also didn’t want to poke the bear and send her off on a shame-fuelled bender that might end in disaster.

Like you, I also got burnt after a rather epic binge on my friend’s part, the aftermath of which totally nuked our friendship for good. Her choice, not mine. There had been other incidents sure but this epically bad behaviour was a new low for her and deeply concerning for us on the receiving end. One of our mutual friends who was there that night decided that words must be had; so she sent our friend a loving but truth-telling email to explain how her behaviour had made her feel. A flame torch and a hot-headed, combative reply bounced back (with me cc’d) in return. She then blocked and unfollowed us on social; a one-two-three punch in the face of a 10+-year friendship. 

Is that stalking? I think it’s being consistent. I think Gwyneth would call it ‘showing up’.

So, I waited a few days for her jets to cool before picking up the phone to try and talk things through as face-to-face wasn’t an option at the time. She didn’t pick up. She never picked up. So on I charged like a bullish Taurean, calling her for a month of Tuesdays and then sending a full-of-heart voice note each time she didn’t pick up. Is that stalking? I think it’s being consistent. And I think Gwyneth would call it ‘showing up’. Yet no result.

Time to change tactics. I sent her a carefully crafted email that I sweated over to make sure it was equal parts unconditional love and an honest-but-gentle poke in the eyeballs. I also took responsibility for not speaking up sooner. I told her I loved her and our friendship and I’d always be there to help her, in any way I could. And that I hoped one day, when she was ready, I’d see her name light up on my phone. I figured she was curled up in a ball of shame (the constant companion of those deep in addiction). That she just needed time. For a while, I believed that she’d miss us eventually and that would help to break her silence. But two years went by until I received a call. A call to tell me that my friend had tragically passed away in her sleep. Alcoholism had won (as it so often does) and we lost a much-loved, albeit absent friend.

Lady, I thought hard about sharing this as my response to your Q. My own efforts with my friend were anything but successful; our friendship was never to be resurrected and she was ended by her addiction. A year later and I’m still full of feels about whether I should have done more, whether others who were in her life at that time should have done more, why she didn’t do more. Yet I hope that in sharing this frustrating, heartbreaking, maddening ending it will inspire you (and others) to keep reaching out to your friend and do what I didn’t: get some support and advice from people with deeper and wider experience and expertise. People like Al-Anon. Something of a sister branch of Alcoholics Anonymous, it’s a community for those affected by someone else’s drinking, which you are. I’m strongly nudging you to call their helpline on 1300 252 666 for the support and intel you will need to guide your next steps in reaching out to her.

You’re no doubt finding your friend pretty repellant right now but it’s all too easy to see addiction as bad behaviour, poor choices, or a weak will when it’s actually a disease that needs understanding and specialist treatment, for all involved.

Image: © Michal Pudelka