Brie’s story: 'Sobriety allowed me to connect with myself in a deeper way.'

Trigger warning: mentions of suicide

I have a clear memory from just after I had lost my dad to suicide at the age of 17. I walked into the kitchen to find my mom clearing out all the empty bottles my dad had hidden around the house. I knew my dad as a casual beer drinker and had always thought his falling asleep in his chair in the evenings was just from early mornings and a tiring day at work. Alcohol wasn’t a topic we discussed as a family, and I didn’t realise the extent of my dad’s dependency until after he had died, when small glimpses of that secret life started to surface in the aftermath.

The combination of a loss from suicide, coupled with alcohol dependency issues, was a deeply stigmatized event that I didn’t have the tools to talk about to process. I had already been developing my own unhealthy relationship with alcohol, and a stigmatized traumatic life event sent me further down my own path to dependency and secrecy. Instead of rightfully grieving a massive loss, I found ways to disconnect from my feelings through binge drinking.

I was generally seen as someone “high functioning”, always holding down a job and appearing outwardly productive. Much like my dad, my misuse was secretive and masked internal struggles. Only those closest to me regularly witnessed the messiness of my binge behaviour. Over time, the messiness that I had managed to mostly keep private was starting to creep into more aspects of my life. I was getting physically sick on a regular basis and my anxiety was intensifying, leading me to start drinking earlier and earlier in the day just to quiet my mind and escape myself. I desperately wanted to change my relationship with alcohol, but the idea of giving up what I had always thought of as a “coping mechanism” felt so daunting. I didn’t know who I was without booze… which makes sense, as it had become an integral part of my every day and how I interacted with the world. I didn’t have any hobbies and I had largely lost my ability to enjoy regular activities without alcohol.

I’m incredibly privileged to have been able to change my relationship with alcohol when I did. After many failed attempts at moderation and fleeting detoxes, I was finally at a point where my desire to change outweighed my desire to drink. I was lucky enough to have an incredibly supportive partner by my side who quit with me and helped me start talking about how I felt instead of suspending my emotions in a haze of perpetual intoxication. I hadn’t reached a point in my dependency where it was unsafe to take those steps on my own. Looking back now, it's hard to express how grateful I am that all of those circumstances aligned so that I could make lasting change at that moment in time.

I feel like an entirely different person in so many ways and, most importantly, I really like the person I’ve settled into being after growing through my experiences instead of hiding from them. I realized I have a massive number of hobbies and interests when I’m not spending all my time thinking about my next drink. Although I’m still terribly awkward (that will never change for me), interacting with the world as a sober person is so much more fulfilling and inspiring for me personally, and I love that I’m no longer reliant on external factors to show up as the version of myself I want to be.

This year also marks 25 years since I lost my dad to suicide after their own struggles with dependency. Marking both of these milestones together is a great way to honour the cycle I was able to break, whilst also reflecting on the reality that so many people don’t get access to the care they need at the right moment in time.

On 6th July, I will #RiseAndRaise to complete the 25km Peak District Ultra Challenge during Alcohol Awareness Week 2024. You can support the fundraiser I’m hosting, with all benefits going to Alcohol Change UK.