At 29, I am now over three years sober, in good health and pursuing a new career after winning a national broadcast journalism competition this summer.
I had my first taste of alcohol at the age of 13. By 14, I was drinking spirits with my friends every weekend. If I’m honest, right from the start, I preferred being drunk over being sober. I liked how it made me feel and the confidence it gave me.
By 21, I couldn’t imagine an evening without a bottle of vodka, and the thought of not getting hold of a bottle would bring on a panic attack. This was the point when I desperately needed help. This was the point when I needed to tell someone I had a problem. This was the point where things could have been so different if I had accepted I had a problem. But I didn’t.
What followed was six years of self-destruction. Six years of drinking and relapsing that dragged me far deeper than rock bottom.
Soon I went from only drinking vodka at night to drinking in the mornings. I was now a 24-hour drinker and within six weeks I was not only mentally dependent on alcohol, but physically too. I was now drinking up to a litre-and-a-half of vodka a day.
Without knowing anything about alcohol withdrawals, and that they can be fatal, I went cold turkey for the first time at 22. This led to severe hallucinations, from which I believed I had lost my mind. I ended up in a police station after running towards traffic as I thought someone was trying to kill me.
Over the following years, more hallucinations were to follow from withdrawal. I have also had several seizures; another symptom of alcohol withdrawal.
I went to rehab for the first time at the age of 23. I was there for three months and learnt a hell of a lot of tools I use today to stay sober. However, whilst in rehab I got an idea in my head that I could drink like a ‘normal’ person. Instead of telling someone about this thought, I left it in my head to grow. And the outcome of my actions was inevitable: I relapsed soon after leaving rehab.
By 25, I had lost almost all contact with my family, I was unemployable, and I had lost all hope. I was jaundiced which, through denial, I didn’t notice. What I did notice was the sudden change in the colour of the whites of my eyes. They had turned yellow. I remember it sending a shiver up my spine. Eventually, I called an ambulance and was soon rushed to Kings Hospital in London. I had liver disease.
I spent a month in Kings, and for a lot of that time it didn’t look like I was going to get out alive. At that point, I didn’t care. Luckily for me, the doctors, nurses and my family did, and never gave up on me. For that, I am eternally grateful.
Another three months of rehab followed. Again, I made the same mistake. I didn’t talk honestly about what was going on in my head. So, once again, I left rehab and relapsed.
I continued to relapse for another nine months. Even liver disease didn’t stop me drinking. However, the time between my relapses was increasing.
On 5 August 2016 I had my last drink. For the first time in recovery, I was able to accept all the things that I would normally use as excuses to drink. I had also finally figured out what worked for me in recovery through my time in rehab and my previous relapses. But most importantly, I had finally realised how important it was to talk honestly and openly about what was going on in my head.
Around two years into my sobriety I realised I didn’t want all those years I lost to alcoholism to count for nothing. So, I began writing a blog about my recovery called www.recoveryboy.blog. I write about everything I have learnt, every mistake I have made and what I do now to stay sober. My initial hope was that it would help another 21-year-old me; I had no idea that writing would help my recovery too!
I have learnt first-hand how easy it can be to use alcohol as a crutch in life. In a flash, that crutch can turn into the centre of your world. It is incredibly addictive and kills so many people in this country.
