Alcohol, My Two-faced Non-friend

I STRUGGLED with low grade, long-term depression from the age of 25.  When everyone else was out revelling in the joy of youth I was leading a life of two halves.  On the one hand I was functioning at work, learning and being promoted.  The rest of the time I lived alone with alcohol.  I drank at least a bottle of wine every night.  A few glasses preparing dinner, a glass with my meal and the rest sat in my armchair.  I then staggered to bed sometimes in blackout, sometimes on my hands and knees. It didn’t concern me at first; there was no one there to see me it wasn’t like I was being thrown out of public places as a lush or drinking out of a brown paper bag on a park bench.  Besides I was drinking decent wine not ‘cheap as chips’ wine.  Alcohol is the most insidious playmate. It tells you that you’re OK when you’re not. It tells you, “Just one glass" knowing full well the bottle will be emptied, never returned to the fridge.  It tells you that you are normal, entitled to drink - to relax you, to pep you up, because it’s Monday, because it’s 7pm.  It never ever told me to stop.

I started to realise my behaviour was different after about three months.  I was anxious at work - did I smell of stale booze? Would the meeting finish on time so I could get home to drink? Would my performance slip enough for me to be sacked? I didn’t want to be sacked so I quit.  I dressed it up as me taking a sabbatical to do a Masters degree, it was seen as an empowered, lifestyle choice.  It wasn’t - it was born out of fear.  Once I started my course my drinking escalated - students were supposed to drink and all I had to do now was read books in my bedroom.  I swapped up from bottles of wine to boxes, it was so much easier having a little tap on hand.

The moment that saved me was being barred from the pub at the end of the road.  Apparently, I fell off a barstool and was loud and aggressive.  The visualization of this in my mind was just horrendous. Everything I had told myself to justify my drinking was in tatters.  My behaviour WAS public, it was affecting others and I had to acknowledge that I thought about my next drink more than anything else.  My shame took me to my GP who was astute enough to realise that I was using alcohol as a crutch, as a means of escape.

From that point on I worked hard.  To be honest about what was happening, to accept help and to fight the cravings as I went through withdrawal.  This was a make or break situation and I applied the same determination to stop drinking as I had to covering it up. I was supremely lucky and managed to stay sober with the support of AA.  I was able to give my two-faced friend, alcohol, the push for real friends who helped me understand where I was coming from and believe in where I wanted to get to.

NICOLA M