COVID - a word that sends shivers down my spine and conjures an overwhelming flood of unwanted memories. I was always a heavy drinker, especially on nights out. But when COVID hit, I found myself spiralling down a dangerous rabbit hole. Cut off from friends, family, and my boyfriend (our relationship was only three months old at the time), I was stuck working from home, battling anxiety and burnout.
April 2025 |
9 minutes
After many nights out with heavy drinking, the Covid-19 lockdown propelled Leah into unhealthy drinking habits. Then, one day, Millie Gooch’s book changed everything for Leah, and helped her reclaim her life.
At first, I thought I was just indulging a little more than usual. A glass of wine at lunch became a bottle by dinner. What was the harm?
At first, I thought I was just indulging a little more than usual. A glass of wine at lunch became a bottle by dinner. What was the harm? The world was shutting down, and we all needed ways to cope. But in my isolation, I turned to my old companions: Mr. Jack Daniels, Captain Morgan, and the ever-so-elegant Miss Barefoot Rosé. They comforted me during those lonely times, or so I told myself. Looking back, I see how quickly they became a crutch. They dulled my pain, masked my bad feelings, and gave me a fleeting sense of confidence.
Suddenly, I found myself enjoying my own company a little too much, sneaking drinks during work hours, and passing out after dinner as part of a grim routine. What started as a coping mechanism turned into an unhealthy habit.
What started as a coping mechanism turned into an unhealthy habit.
Fast forward to July 2021 - a friend and I attended a Burlesque brunch, complete with bottomless drinks. OF COURSE, we made the most of it, drinking the bar dry before moving on to more bars and even a drunken ride on the London Eye. At the time, I told myself it was just another fun, wild night. But deep down, I knew better. By the end of the night, I was out of control, stumbling so much that I narrowly avoided being hit by a London bus. I was reckless. It was anything but fun. That night, I laughed it off, pretending it was just another crazy story to add to my collection. But inside, something shifted. When I finally got home, I crashed hard from my alcohol-induced high and found myself sinking into a deep, dark hole.
The familiar post-binge despair hit me like a freight train. I wanted to break up with my boyfriend, to run away, to escape it all – I even thought about ending my life. These feelings weren’t new. After every binge, I’d endure the same crushing guilt and hopelessness. The hangovers were unbearable: relentless migraines, violent shakes, and endless vomiting. I felt like I was at rock bottom. And yet, I knew deep down that rock bottom had layers. If I didn’t stop, there was always further to fall.
Then I stumbled across Millie Gooch, founder of the Sober Girl Society, and her book. It changed everything for me. Reading her story and her wisdom, I realised I didn’t want to feel numb anymore. I wanted change.
So, I started small. I went sober for a week. That week turned into a month. That month turned into a year. In the beginning, it was excruciating. I had to sit with emotions I’d spent years drowning out. I had to face my anxieties, my insecurities, my fears – all sober.
So, I started small. I went sober for a week. That week turned into a month. That month turned into a year. In the beginning, it was excruciating. I had to sit with emotions I’d spent years drowning out. I had to face my anxieties, my insecurities, my fears – all sober.
The social pressure was immense. People questioned why I wasn’t drinking, pushed cocktails into my hands, laughed and said, “Come on, just one!” I had to learn to say no. I had to learn to set boundaries.
It wasn’t easy. But it was worth it.
Sobriety gave me back my mornings - clear-headed, hangover free mornings where I actually felt good about myself. It gave me back my relationships - real, meaningful connections unclouded by drunken fights or forgotten conversations. It gave me back my self-respect. I learned that I didn’t need alcohol to be fun. I didn’t need alcohol to be confident. I didn’t need alcohol to cope.
Three years on, I still sometimes crave that old escape. I won’t lie and say it’s all been easy. There are moments when I miss the mindlessness, the reckless abandon. But I’ve gained so much more than I’ve lost.
I’ll be four years sober in July – and I’m forever grateful for that book. It helped me reclaim my life. And I’m sure my family is grateful too.