The alcoholic's spouse and children may lash back at him; screaming, hysterical battles may rock the household and destroy any remaining hope of an end to the long and bitter tragedy. The family may suddenly stop fighting and simply give up, convinced that they can only provide the alcoholic with a warm place to sleep and food to eat.
The late-stage alcoholic is usually isolated from his friends and relatives. Social contacts have disintegrated. Neighbors lower their eyes. Relatives may be so paralyzed by anger or grief that they, too, stop trying. The alcoholic "problem" is ignored, put out of mind, locked away where it cannot hurt so much.
That sums up my adolescence with my mother. She was nothing but a warm body that sat around and drank all day long. From age 5 on, I remember nothing from my mother but embarassment, anxiety, and torture. If anyone who is reading this and has children, please don't ever go down that path. Not only are you crushing yourself, you will scar your children. Every hour of the day I think about my mother, about the beautiful woman that was lowered to nothing but a waste of life. I have anxiety attacks and I know she is the cause of them. Nothing else in my life would be the reason for it. My mother caused my anxiety and a reason why I started to drink heavily was to relieve anxiety. So in turn you could say my mother was part of the reason for my alcohol problem. Anyone on this site that is thinking about drinking again should print that excerpt out and post it all over their homes, in their walets, or their cars as a reminder that a bottle is not worth all of that.