Before I start I will tell you a little about how I intend to write this story. My style of writing interjects seriousness with quite a bit of sarcasm and humour with much of it aimed back at my previous behaviours. Please do not feel that I am taking anything away about how serious an issue my drinking had become and the effect it had on me and those around me as that is not my intention.
I do not want this to read like a tragedy that somehow had a positive ending, a tale of unhappiness that was pulled back from the brink. That's not to say I haven't been to some really dark places along the way as I have but a method I have of coping is being able to look back on the past with a knowing smile that by keeping on doing what I do now I never have to go back there.
By writing this i'm opening up and sharing more than I have ever done with anyone else but I find writing down how I feel much easier than saying it and sharing it openly. So in a way this is a release for me also but I also have inside me a desire to relay my past to the world. I can't explain why but something inside me keeps pushing me to put down into words exactly how I feel.
I hope that by reading this, if you have been affected by alcoholism or if you are reading this on behalf of a person you care about and pass even just a part of this on that this has been a worthwhile exercise.
Enough waffle and self doubt, on with the story
Where better to start than at the beginning eh? Question is how does relating back to such a young age tie in with my alcoholism at the age of thirty five. Well I always remember being sent to stay with an auntie of mine when I was around seven or eight, by this time my mother had got married, my father lived elsewhere and hadn't played a large role in my life for whatever reason. Anyway after my mother had married this person with their own children, at a weekend I used to spend it at my aunties. Here was an escape from the weekday scenario of trying to fit in and yet never really feeling a part of that family but never speaking up and saying so. Remember that phrase "children should be seen and not heard" well it is something I feel quite strongly against and it felt then as it still does now I was just expected to slot in to new surroundings in a new part of town, new school and new family. Everything about it all felt so weird and I would never have wanted to change what we had up until that point. So spending my weekends at my aunties in an area where I used to live was therapeutic for me. It was however my first taste of drink.
Can you even buy this any more?
The only time her drinks cabinet got opened was for a couple on Christmas day or one for the vicar should he call round. Maybe as a problem drinker I missed my calling in life and should have found the church, studied and enjoyed a life of free sherry and port as dished out by lovely old ladies. I can still picture the living room now, the left hand side of a glass fronted cabinet contained advocaat, White Horse whiskey and a bottle of Croft sherry. And as she made my dinner I would cheekily have a taste and yet didn't find it at all repulsive nor did it make me feel ill.
Drink!
At that age I didn't have the impulse to keep going back but I did take advantage of the fact that I was trusted and could be left on my own. This occasional tastings went on until my teenage years and by the age of 14 that is when I developed a real taste for drink and the effects it had on me.
I was very quiet in school, a good learner and keen and enthusiastic, scoring well on reports but a 2B was my usual average score, it was rare I excelled in anything probably with the exception of history and English language. It would also be fair to say I was bullied, not because we had a poor family as the person my mother married was in steady employment but that income had to go between feeding us all including providing for two other children from an earlier relationship. I would say it was more down to the fact I didn't fit in, the quiet kid who didn't retaliate and very rarely hit back. I used to try and keep away at break times, if the library was open I would stay in there as it was under the watchful eye of a teacher.
As I got to the last two years of school I developed a good circle of friends. Our socialising usually consisted of going to someones house, watching WWF wrestling on Sky, playing role-playing games and drinking beer, usually anything from a mid strength lager to real ales and home brews. I always felt as though I wanted to be the first to finish, how quickly could I get through it, wouldn't it be impressive that here I was, look at how much I can handle. I don't know whether people ever thought that about me and never will, that was just the pattern of how I started on the road to alcoholism.
When the weather was good we would spend it playing football in the park. after the game someone would have brought a few beers or we would try and chance it at a nearby Airies off licence though never at Spar as they asked everyone for ID. Deciding to pool together our funds, we would buy 20/20, Martini or Thunderbirds or see what cider was on offer, if it had the word White in the label you were usually onto a winner.
A particular favourite of mine
First time of drinking anything other than beer was when I used to get sick from my drinking, or even worse when the beer had gone and we opened up some sickly sweet stuff in a bottle and passed it round. One bad episode when I was 15 included buying a case of beer from a friend who illegally worked in an off licence and ploughing through this case. I have no recollection of that night, I was told I was stopping cars on a dual carriageway so I could get my friends across the road, I sat on a wall and fell off it backwards and then falling into my house and vomiting in the porch. I laid low for around a week after that, it was only when people called round that I dared to show my face again. Yet I laughed it off and never thought twice about carrying on.
At 18 I got left an inheritance from the auntie whom I had spent my weekends with as a youngster yet over two years I spent it on new electrical equipment for my bedroom, travelling, time away and I can't remember what else. It also became the age when I could drink as much as I wanted and so took several giant strides downhill. I was also working in the retail sector at this point, initially just as a part time job but then full time work came my way so I opted for that.
I often wonder should I have gone to university, part of me thinks I would have done well but then again would I have just used the freedom to drink in between studying? I will never know the answer to this but I also know that I can always revisit the idea of studying again should I ever want to do so.
I still lived at home until the age of 21 but my full time hours coupled with a reasonable wage and no outgoings meant that I could spend my time going out. It allowed me my first real taste of nightclubs, pubs, nights out and meeting people, it allowed me to sit at home with a bottle of wine or if it was a few days before payday, a £1.29 bottle of cider. Nights out usually meant I spent my money on drinks and would walk back the three miles on my own at 2.00am. Looking back now this was an early demonstration of how my drinking caused me to have reckless thinking, I should never have put my safety at risk by doing that. I would also drink when I wasn't well, if I was on medications and I discovered that hot blackcurrant, honey, lemon and dark rum was a cure for so many ailments. So good it was that I carried on taking it even after I felt better.
Mine never looked like that and usually went in a pint glass
This was how my drinking went underground, I wouldn't say my mother didn't know or that she didn't care. What she would see is me having a glass of wine or two but not knowing about what I had kept hidden upstairs for later.
Throughout all of this I never thought anything was wrong, people I was seeing never commented on my drinking but my relationships used to switch between people who lived in the same town as me or longer distances whereby the me they saw for a couple of days was not always how I behaved when I was alone. I would frequently cheat on people and one relationship wouldn't come to an end until I had securely started a new one, that's how much of an uncaring bastard I had become. Drink made me feel superb, on a night out I thought I was something and someone, I'd start up conversations, chat to DJs, flirt and you would even find me on the dance floor. These days it is rare that I dance as my dancing skills are similar to that famous robot dance that Peter Crouch used to perform. That is why I stay firmly grounded!
Seriously!
Looking back now, how I see it is that I thought I was just behaving like everyone else. Here I was after escaping an unhappy childhood, this person who loved going out, showing off and trying to impress. I will never know why I tried to behave that way but one thing that sobriety teaches me is just to be me and try and feel comfortable being that way.
By the age of 23 I had moved out of home twice, the first time was unsuccessful and I had to cut my losses and move back home. Whilst away I still wanted to drink and to go out despite not working, having no income and not paying any bills. I even sold everything I owned to keep on financing my life and three months down the line when I had nothing left I packed my belongings and moved back home. The second attempt was more of a success, I had been dating a girl for around 18 months and she lived in a different town. In between seeing her I also started seeing my ex partner and as we both had Internet access frequently conducted our conversations over MSN messenger service. This I believe is preset to retain previous conversations and one particularly graphic one detailed how much I loved cheating on my current partner with my ex and how I would love to see how upset she would be if we got caught. The next time my then partner stayed whilst I was at work she went on my computer and found this conversation and finding drink in my room she took an overdose of pills and booze. My mother found her lying in her own sick and called me in work to go to the hospital. To this day she never told her parents the truth, she claimed that as she was prescribed anti-depressants she felt really down that day hence why she did what she did. Even now I live with that guilt and the thoughts of what if she had succeeded, how would I feel, would I have joined her, would I have told people the truth. I can still see the note she left and remember the scrawled words "it's not your fault, I don't blame you". She had also switched off the computer. Her parents invited me to stay with her then hence that became my second move away from home and I was a guest of their generous hospitality for well over a year.
Her plans were to go to university the following summer and yet over the year I lived there we never saved anything, always working on the basis of I will save some next month, everything was always I will do it later. This is where I became terrible with money and budgeting and something that only now have I worked on improving. I also spent time going home to see my family or friends and yet what I was doing was still going back to see my ex who was putting pressure on me did I really want to get back with her. The idea of being wanted and adored by the opposite sex is all well and fine to a point but it was creating me stress as I wanted the best of both worlds. One night I spoke to my ex on the phone and she was saying how she wanted to know and after having a few post-work drinks I snapped back, told her that I hated her and wished that she was like her dad. Dead.
My drinking whilst I was away from home was never excessive nor did it cause problems, prior to moving I would have four bottles of beer for a three hour train journey, then we would spend the night in a pub. Around this time Wetherspoons was first launching so a cheap watering hole was just perfect. Whilst I lived with her it would be a few beers here and there or we would share some wine but I still stayed away from spirits or certainly not to the point that I would later come to consume that at.
How I used to love this place
That summer we moved to where she came to study so that completed my move to Manchester where I have stayed since. Everything in that house of any value was purchased by her parents and financially I bought token gestures like plates, glasses, cutlery, basically the bare minimum. Without the generosity of her parents we would have been on a bare floor but at least we would have had plenty in to drink!
I found my time with this person difficult as she had a form of depression which came with really wild fluctuations of mood. It did mean my behaviours went un-noticed including my drinking. After scoring a well paid full time job the floodgates opened and there was no longer any Smart Price vodka, only the finest Smirnoff Black or Grey Goose. The good times had well and truly returned. I was entrusted with a joint bank account and her student loan payments, money from her parents, wages etc all came to me where I was entrusted to pay the bills. With the money coming in and such a cheap rent this should never have been an issue but what mattered more at that point was drink, drink, drink. There were times the letting agency would call round for missed rent payments, I had my first Council Tax summons which I narrowly managed to avoid getting to after making arrangements to pay it and yet at no point in this did alarm bells ring about the only thing I seemed to care about was making sure we had a house full of booze.
No expense spared at £25 a bottle!
In many ways I abused this situation and never seemed to learn from past mistakes, I had a well paid job with extra money coming in from her and if I miss a bill I will just pay it next month or get her to ring her parents and ask them for an advance. Overdrafts got racked up without a second thought and even today it still sits at a level higher than I would like it to be.
At 26 this relationship came to an end, I was finding her hard to live with, she was struggling to maintain normality in life with her mental illness and we went our separate ways that summer. We had started to drift apart for most of that year and we had held an open relationship and I formed a friendship with the person that later became my wife. It was a messy end to a relationship that I truly used and abused for my own selfish ends and I tried to hold onto it whilst developing a new relationship for as long as I could. There were times I may as well not have had a front door but invested in a turnstile instead.
Next!
You've got nowt on me sunshine
This pattern reciprocated itself for several years and in 2004 I obtained a copy of Alan Carrs book(no, not the comedian though that would have been an interesting read) How To Control Your Drinking. Here in black and white was a guide to the danger of drink and how to change my opinion of alcohol. I managed three hellish months without drinking and became very much anti-drinking, if I couldn't have it then no one should. That spring we took a break in Venice and as I sat down to enjoy my pasta carbonara I devoured a really nice glass of Italian red without even a second thought. On the way back to the hotel we stopped at a shop, obtained more beer and so it all began again.
This for several years was the pattern of my drinking but I then began to seek ways for an easy life and this is where the lying and dishonesty started to rear its ugly head. Convinced that I can drink when I want without being lectured I continued to do so but the transition started from going out drinking or bringing home a bottle of wine to waiting when my partner was out at work. A long day of being left alone or her on a night out equated to party time for me, at this point I didn't have to lie about everything drink related but the dishonesty had come to the fore. When challenged I would claim I had only had a bottle of wine when in all honesty it was probably two, if I appeared intoxicated in a way that more than a bottle of wine would cause then I would just excuse it through being tired or not eating or blame the fact it was a strong percentage. One of my best lies was how I loved wines from South America or Australia, in all honesty I knew frig all about wine but I did know that wines from this country tended to clock in around 13-14% abv which was considerably less than something from Spain, Italy or France.
Fruity, plummy notes
The same excuses carried on into the world of beer, here I was developing my love of real ales, winter ales especially or Belgian beers, always seeking out what that 9% ale must taste like then professing my love for it. At no point did I distinguish hoppy aromas, all I was bothered about was how quickly it got me pissed and the effects it was having.
...as voted for by me
As I look back with a clearer head I can also see the damage it was causing to me, in my situation it wasn't making me a more sociablke person but it was having a damaging effect on my nerves, anxieties and my self esteem. As an example I could go to a party and I would sit there quietly on my own which I felt uncomfortable doing. I couldn't strike up conversations and would only talk when people spoke to me. I would have people come to me and ask if I was feeling ok but yet as soon as I had a couple of drinks the switch from social outcast to party animal was unreal. All the barriers got ripped down after a few, strangers became friends, anxieties melted away and so the damaging link became ingrained in me that to enjoy company I could only do so comfortably after a few drinks. It also created a situation whereby I found being around strangers more difficult and my anxieties began to worsen.
At my worst I would cross the street when I saw people I knew approaching, I would pretend to be on my phone, I wouldn't want to stop and make conversation when I had no escape route so a polite smile and hello was usually enough to get me out of that scenario on a frequent basis.
Hello. Yeah? Leave me alone!
When I was at home I never answered the house phone unless it was a number that I knew, it could have been a life or death emergency and I would never have known. It didn't help that my past debts were creeping up on me and if burying my head in the sand was an olympic sport then I would surely be the gold medalist.
One of the most daunting experiences was when someone was at the door. If I was off work and drinking that day I would not let anyone see me, I would leave the blinds and curtains closed and I avoided everyone. If it was the postman with a parcel i'd rather it went back to the sorting office, no matter who it was I would stand behind my front door so I was out of view or stay upstairs until they had gone. I even avoided our window cleaners seeing me or knocking on for their £4.00 that's how bad it was getting.
In my mind I never saw the correlation between drinking and the emotional damage it was causing, I just thought I had anxiety issues, social phobias and I even thought that at some point I may have been on the autistic spectrum.
In 2009 I went to see my doctors about seeking counselling for my fears and I was offered that help. It felt good to open up about my past and to understand. Both my doctor and counsellor asked me about my drinking consumption but as was always the case I lied. I'm not sure why I did that apart from the fact I didn't want my GP telling me to calm it down so I always ensured that I stayed within my weekly unit allowance except for special occasions when I overindulged. What counselling helped me to do was to break down some barriers about myself and about others and whilst the drinking was still clearly having an effect on some parts of me, it did help me to distance myself from events in my past. It also taught me not to shut out people close to me and to try and be more open about how I feel. I would not say it was a waste of time but for all the good it was doing, the drinking was undoing more of me mentally and emotionally.
So tell me all about it
By the end of the year my drinking battle was still ongoing, start, stop, leave it a few days, only drink in the pub, don't have it in the house, buy a case of beer but it lasts two weeks etc anything I could do to try and calm it down. Some weeks were better than others but in my head I could justify my drinking. Social events = drink. Shit day in work = drink. Pay Day = drink. Bad news = drink. Family arguments = drink.
I went back to my doctors with a resolve that I needed help and guidance to cut it down or even at this time I was thinking to just try and cut it out. My doctor referred me onto ADS who work with local health authorities and offer help and counselling to people with addictions. I had a lovely counsellor who went through the dangers of drink with me, how drinking spirits neat is more damaging than a mixer, the damage it causes to the body, what can be repaired and what can't etc. By the end of it all I was very clued up on the dangers of drinking but not the most important part of all and that was how to stop. A few sessions in it was decided I was a social problem drinker, when I consumed I took in too much but that I wasn't an alcoholic nor did I have an addiction to drink. This was just the news I wanted to hear, I could walk out of there with my head held high, all I needed to do was to cut it down.
Advice included weekends only, not at home, alternate with soft drinks, set a limit, only go out with a certain sum of money, a whole raft of ideas that would somehow help me "control" my drinking. I could go home, have a few beers safely knowing that so long as I didn't do it life would be just hunky dory. I kept my drink diary as i was asked and put in just enough to make it seem believable but not too much to cause a problem. What people didn't know outside of that wouldn't hurt them and anyway no one is perfect, if I over consume one day I just won't let it happen again. Keep it sensible and everything will be okay.
At no point in this did I even contemplate alcoholism. Me an alcoholic, how very dare you suggest such a thing. Back then I laughed it off, I wasn't one of those people who sat down an alley stinking with a bottle of fortified wine. I wasn't on the Buckfast just yet.
Cheers!
2010 saw me carrying on with ADS, pleased with the progress, saying to those around me how well I am doing in controlling it and behind their backs carrying on as before. Still the battle went on and as the year went on I was beginning to hate myself for what I was becoming. If I overdid it one day, the next day when I went out I would say to myself i'm not doing that again, being grateful that i'm still alive, wishing my hangover away but knowing that I would be making apologies to my partner that morning.
It was also this year that I got engaged whilst on an all inclusive holiday, how I used to love them. You know when you look in the brochure about the hotel rating or how many metres it was to the beach, my basis for a good place to stay was the cost of a beer locally or was it an all inclusive resort. If there had been an all inclusive resort in Afganistan, if the price was right and the bar was open 24/7 then I would have wanted to go. Holidays were great insofar as people went on all inc holidays to get drunk, why not just get your moneys worth like everyone else?
2011 was my make or break year. Some weeks were good, some weeks not so but still the spiral of trying to fix it and not knowing how carried on, then I would resent and hate myself. My drinking was getting more erratic, if my partner was in work early in a morning then the night before I would buy a bottle of spirits and hide it in one of my outside bins, if I thought she was still up then I would hide it in a bush nearby to our house. At 5 or 6 am as she went out I would throw some clothes on and go and retrieve it and be pissed up by the time Jeremy Kyle was on. So long as I sobered up in time for her coming home then life was great. By now my drinking was causing me concern but I just kept to the ADS mantra of control it but I kept on trying and just becoming more upset and angry when I didn't manage to do it. As I laid there at night I kept asking why can I not do this, why am I such a failure, why can I not just be like anybody else. And then the suicidal thoughts came in how I didn't want to wake up in the morning if this is what life is going to be like. If I didn't want to live anymore then what is the least painful way out. Could I do it. Would I do it. Did I have the balls and what about the effect it would have on other people.
I tried to do all of this off my own back, going one day without a drink, feeling great, enjoying that feeling the next day, no pain, no guilt, no remorse, no apologies to make. But then it hit me again and the temptation drags you in and the only way I can describe it is like something has control over you, I knew I didn't want to get dressed and go and buy it but there felt like there was nothing left inside of me to put up a fight.
By summer my partner had suggested AA. I had looked at their message before and as soon as I saw the mention of anything religious I turned away from it. I don't know if to this day that was my decision or the drinking side of me saw an excuse and just relayed a thought to my brain saying this isn't for you. Knowing what I know now then I could and should have gone sooner and ignored my preconceptions about any religious beliefs.
My first AA meeting was more about anything for a peaceful life so I went, sat and listened. I hated being the new person, people wanting to know my name and shake my hand and say how welcome you are, all the things drink had made me around strangers made me want to run out of the door. I only think it's due to a mixture of manners and curiosity that I stayed.
I dipped in and out of AA during the summer months, what I was hearing struck a chord with me but still underneath it all that little fucking demon wanted one last shot at ruining my life. As it gained in strength I attended less meetings and then I started to lie about going.
The lowest point so far struck in October of 2011, this was my jumping off point, what was the beginning of the end for me. The point I had to reach before the fight back began. This was my final three days of drinking before I finally admitted defeat.
I get knocked down, but I get up again
On the first day I only worked half a day and was due to have an eye test at 4.30pm. If I remember correctly I hadn't drank for a couple of days and so that voice came back, go on, just have a bit. That was how it used to start, just have that bit that's left to silence the craving, you don't need to have more. Between lunchtime and 4pm I was back on the vodka again and by the time I reached town I was inebriated but still functioning. My partner was due to meet me first and when she saw me at 4.15 she totally flipped and told me there was no way she could marry me. Now when we used to argue over drinking, there were times I would get cocky and just think well fuck you, I'll be better off without you. Thankfully, reason kicked in and I accepted that I was wrong with my behaviour. I was told don't come home and just get to an AA meeting tonight, doesn't matter where, just go. That night my arse never went near an AA meeting but I don't remember where I went or what I did but I do remember getting home. I laid in bed that night hating what I had become, lost and stuck how to beat it and what to do for the best. I must have had more to drink but part of me didn't care any more and as part of my lowest point I don't even remember much of that evening bar getting home.
On the second day I should have been in work. I got up as normal, showered, got dressed but I just felt so ill, not just physically but mentally and emotionally. I hated myself so much that day, just not knowing how or why I got to that point, what had I done to deserve all of this, how do I put it right when my wife to be has heard all the words I used before over and over again. I didn't even get as far as work as I was ill in the street and heading back home again for yet another ear bashing. I am so glad that I never went into work that day but the events of the that day were to take a turn for the worst.
After I was left alone I then headed back out for more drink and a half bottle of vodka was soon devoured. By lunchtime I wanted more so I bought a bottle of red wine which I also polished off. Then the reality hit me that she will be home in a few hours, get me out of here quick. I don't remember getting dressed but I got out of the house and just switched my phone to airplane mode as I really didn't want anyone speaking to me that day. I have very few recollections of where I went or what I did but I do know that was my last ever blow out and has been to this day. By the time it was getting dark I was freezing cold and thought I have nothing to lose by attending an AA meeting, this was me at my very worst. I remember little about it but that has to be one of the best decisions I ever made in my life. I sat around for nearly an hour prior to it starting and decided to switch my phone back on to let my wife to be know that I was ok. Whilst initially annoyed at me, that soon changed to happiness that I was still alive and I was doing something about my drinking.
The third day I didn't feel as bad physically but at no point that day did I even want a drink, the idea repulsed me. I travelled twenty miles to the first AA meeting that day and headed back towards home for the back half of a second one. I had also decided on a policy of honesty towards my employer so I told them the exact reason why I had been off work and felt so much better doing so. Anyone with alcoholism, if this is you please do not keep this a secret unless it puts you in a position of risk, my drinking created in me this vision of a hopeless alcoholic as being a bum down an alleyway. In all truth I was that bum as I was staggering around, sneaking drinks from miniatures or 20cl bottles down back alleyways. Thankfully I was one of the lucky ones as I didn't lose everything around me and those brakes went on before everything and everyone around me fucked off once and for all.
Once and for all!
Powerless
The choice of drinking was no longer mine and once it started it wasn't happy untill I was in a mess
Hopeless
I never saw a way out, the further down it dragged me the less chance I saw of escape
Suicidal
I didn't want to wake up
Lonely
I still had friends but drink took away my desire to maintain contact
Weak
It made me beat myself up why I couldn't control it and be like other people
Anxious
Social situations, answering the door or the phone scared me
Reckless
Putting off paying bills, making irresponsible decisions
Selfish
It's all about me
Uncaring
I never knew how to truly care about other people
If I knew then what I know now I would never have picked up that first drink as a child, less so as a teenager. I'm not going to comment on drink prices, night club promotions, drinking ages or anything else as I accept that alcoholism is an illness within me. I also know that it won't just go away. My hayfever doesn't go away either but with the right treatment it doesn't cause me issues.
Today my life is so much better without a drink inside of me. I have more energy, I sleep better, I feel better and that has such a huge impact on those around me too. There's been the odd wobble along the way and I would by lying if there wasn't. But I know how to deal with it now so I don't beat myself up over it. I deal with it, learn from it, see why it's happened and move on. And since October I have never been in that state. That makes me feel so proud of myself but I also know I can't do it on my own. Without good people around me i'd be pissed up in some flat somewhere, possibly in employment, probably not and full of hatred and resentment at the world.
I still have work to do and plenty of it but one step at a time!
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