Looking back at my life, alcohol was always there, playing a role. Often a silent role, sometimes a violent one and eventually the main character.
In October 2018 I lost my mum to stage four liver disease, because of a long battle with alcohol misuse. I have flashbacks to early childhood memories of “sleepy mummy” and at the time could not quite understand it. As I got older, I started to associate her mood changes to the red liquid and the clanging of bottles together in shopping bags.
It was probably not until I was in college that I understood the full effects of being a child of an alcoholic.
I felt like I was leading a double life. The one at college that was trying to maintain friendships and relationships and the one at home were the roles were reversed, and I was the parent. My focus became protecting my siblings and keeping mum safe.
I felt like I was leading a double life. The one at college that was trying to maintain friendships and relationships and the one at home were the roles were reversed, and I was the parent. My focus became protecting my siblings and keeping mum safe. That saying “You don’t know what goes on behind closed doors” really was a face I had to play.
Christmas and family gatherings, which at first seemed fun, were a nightmare. Even now, years later, Christmas fills me with dread. I didn’t know which version of mum would turn up at our celebrations.
At the age of 17, my relationship with alcohol was not healthy, partly because I wanted to appear normal with my college friends.
There were times when the two worlds collided, and I could not hide what was going on. I remember having a falling out with a friend because I was not being as sociable – eventually I told her why. There was relief but also embarrassment.
I also got in a lot of trouble at college because I often missed classes as I was picking up my siblings from school or looking after mum. I remember finding out my textiles’ teacher had thrown out my work as she thought my lack of attendance was down to me “being lazy and not caring”. I was devastated as I couldn’t tell her why and just had to accept it.
My relationship with my mum broke down completely which resulted in us not speaking for 10 years. During this time, I went to university and continued to run away from feelings around alcohol as I wanted to appear to “be normal” and partied hard.
My relationship with my mum broke down completely which resulted in us not speaking for 10 years. During this time, I went to university and continued to run away from feelings around alcohol as I wanted to appear to “be normal” and partied hard. I ended up in relationships with alcohol dependent people, thinking I could help.
In the back of my mind, I had the fear that I too would become reliant on drinking. That I would be following the same path because it was in my genes. I also blamed myself, thinking that maybe I was the reason she drank. This thought would make me spiral.
When my mum died my relationship with alcohol completely changed. A voice in my head said, “I will never touch it again”. Something that had consumed most of my mum’s life, and mine, was the reason she was no longer here. In those first few months after she died, the thought of alcohol made me very angry – the harsh reality was that it was a poison and it had killed someone.
Being sober was a challenge in the beginning not because it was hard, but because of the questions people asked me. I had not realised how embedded it had been in my social activities and networking through work.
Being sober was a challenge in the beginning not because it was hard, but because of the questions people asked me. I had not realised how embedded it had been in my social activities and networking through work. I had drink forced into my hands at events and even asked if I was pregnant on many occasions. Eventually, I started telling people why.
In the last couple of years my anger has calmed, and I’ve channelled it into learning more. I have researched behaviour patterns and the effects that alcohol can have on people. I’ve also learned about services and charities that can help families in the UK. There is so much information out there and this is how I found Alcohol Change UK.
I was looking for a place to feel comfortable about sharing my experience, but also a place that is open to many opinions and ideas around alcohol. Being a community champion for Alcohol Change UK has been an incredible opportunity and it’s been an honour to hear other people’s stories. Although I have gone through stages of anger, I know that what I can do is use my experience and my voice to change the stigma and narrative around it.
Now my focus is talking and sharing the dangers of alcohol. Talking openly has allowed me to process a lot of my childhood memories and grief. It’s also allowed me to help and guide people to resources that are available, which is something I wish I had had when I was 17.
I am still sober, four years later and I am happy with my decision. My relationship with alcohol may change in the future, but I feel informed and happy with where I am now.
Samantha Kingston is the CEO of Virtual Umbrella and a TEDx Speaker. Samantha is also one of our fantastic community champions at Alcohol Change UK.
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