The opening line of my song ‘Go Against The Grain’ describes a cycle that I was trapped in for so long during my battle with alcohol. Drinking had such a major effect that on my mood and general mental health, before, during and after a big blow out for such a long time. That ‘Friday feeling’ state of mania, knowing it was nearly time to drop all responsibility and lose myself again for the next few days. The dips towards the end of the night, getting upset, angry or crying about past traumatic experiences or current general unhappiness. And the hangovers, that massive barbell sitting on your head, the horrible cocktail of guilt, confusion, regret, and overall self-unkindness.
The last time I drank alcohol was the Champions League Final, 2019, between Spurs and Liverpool. I was with my dad, watching his team play in one of the biggest matches in the footballing world, chatting and having a few beers. This all sounds rather pleasant. If it wasn’t for the entire week before the match, in which I got paralytic drunk every day, trashed my parents’ house, upset one friend who’d attempted to help me with a few days’ work and really concerned two other friends that I’d known since school, it all would have been rather acceptable.
A big factor in my particular style of alcohol trouble, was I really couldn’t moderate. It was all or nothing. A fully focused sprint to oblivion.
I’d watch after work drinkers in the pub, 3 or 4 then off home for dinner and an early night, and really not get it. The more I drank, the more I wanted to drink and no amount of falling over, throwing up or getting into arguments with people was going to stand in my way.
It was my drinking that week, before the Champions League final, that alerted my mum, sister and mates Nick and Liam that I was in trouble. It showed them I couldn’t afford to stay in the position I was for much longer. That my actions and my behaviour were masking the good person that I’d forgotten I was.