Today marks ten years since my last drink.
Every year, I write something here to mark the anniversary. Why? Because it’s easy to get complacent about this stuff. I never crave a drink. I never reminisce in any positive way about boozing. Sobriety doesn't seem like a big deal to me any more, it’s just become part of who I am.
There’s a risk in that. If I forget how damaging alcohol has become to my life and start to minimise the importance of my sobriety, I could, one day, decide that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be such a big deal to pick up another drink. You know, just for the bants.
So I try to remind myself of how bad things got, how little control I seemed to have over my drinking towards the end, how unhappy it made me and those around me. I also take a bit of time to imagine what might have been had I continued on the same booze trajectory beyond June 25th 2015. When you lean into bad habits like booze and drugs, you normalise pretty weird and horrible stuff quite easily.
Having been an enthusiastic ‘leisure-binger’ since I was 14, my drinking snowballed into something more depressing during the last couple of years of my thirties.
Nothing was exciting or rock n roll about it. It was just depressing and pathetic. There was a massive amount of secretive, lonely drinking. I hid empties from my wife in the bin across the street. All the cliches. It was only going one way: by now I could have either been dead, divorced or in the nick. Instead, I have had a great ten years, surrounded by the love of my family and friends.
My kids have grown up without a sloppy boozehound for a dad. My wife has had a reliable and loving husband. I have done things I would never have managed had I stayed on the booze and gear: published a couple of successful books, started a popular podcast, hosted my own national radio show, got fitter and stronger than ever and developed a new passion for campaigning, writing and talking about mental health in the hope it might help others get through the sort of shit I’ve been through.
If you read last week’s newsletter you will know that I am going through a bit of shit right now. It gets slightly better each day, but I’m still feeling below my best. I am anxious, deflated, and scared of an unidentifiable (probably imaginary) threat. I feel shit.
Yes, you can still be miserable when you are sober. It is not all Cornettos and kittens. I suppose the difference is that I am facing this difficult patch head-on: I am talking to people, exercising, living right and getting the rest I need to recover. In the old days, I would have responded to the first signs of low mood by reaching for the bottle. It would have relieved me temporarily from my feelings before bringing them back stronger. I got locked in that cycle dozens of times.
I now have much more faith in my ability to cope with life. Yes, I feel crap right now, but I have no doubt I will come back stronger soon. I don't need to run and hide from these feelings in the pub. I can deal with it all, slowly and sustainably.
Over the years, a few mates and associates have said things about my sobriety that have hurt. A close pal recently questioned whether or not I was completely sober. Another old mate (someone who himself is sober) said that he thought I might have been ‘over-reacting’ by quitting drinking ten years ago. They probably didn’t intend to be hurtful but I can be a sensitive cunt. I am proud of my ten years and I resent people minimising it.
When you quit drinking, there will always be people who feel the need to snipe or undermine. Some might feel like you are judging them. There will be others who think you are looking for attention. There will be those who are competitive about it, trying to suggest that their sobriety is purer and more meaningful than yours. Who knows why they do it? I am trying to be less annoyed by these sorts of people. What does it matter what they think? Why should I have to explain, prove or justify my sobriety? I quit booze for myself, not for anyone else. I thought it would make my life happier and more manageable. And that’s how it worked out. One of the big problems in my life has been a preoccupation with outside validation. But I am getting better at understanding that peace comes only from within.
Sobriety is not for everyone, of course. Plenty of people are happy to drink daily and can stay in control of their lives. Good for them. I am not anti-booze or anti-boozers. Some people I care about most are perfectly happy pissheads whom I love and admire without judgment. I am just someone who couldn't handle drinking anymore, so I stopped doing it. I feel better as a result. That’s it.
Ten years is a long time. I hope I never drink again because I know it would probably have disastrous consequences for me. I don't expect any praise for what I’ve done. I am just sharing it to remind people who might want to give it a go that it is possible and worth it. For the rest of you, crack on and have a drink for me.
Some services, links and phone numbers to help you through the tough times
https://www.samaritans.org/ Tel 116 123
https://www.thecalmzone.net
@YoungMindsUK 0800 018 2138
@CharitySane 0300 304 7000
https://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/
https://cocaineanonymous.org.uk/
https://andysmanclub.co.uk/
https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/healthy-body/gambling-addiction/
Apart from the nailing vodka while the kettle's boiling and cocaine commuting, this is me. I'm two years sober this weekend. You're an inspiration, making other people feel better even when you feel bad yourself. I wish you well.
I don’t know or understand the complexities of your position but I can see you’re a fighter. Crack on and keep well.