Maybe you really are an Australian Tax resident. Maybe you’d rather believe you were. Anything is better than the truth, right?
I remember asking the internet questions that I really didn’t want the answers to. We’ve all done it. Or rather, I wanted the answers, but I sure as hell wasn’t prepared, or didn’t know how to act, in response to them. Sound familiar? Just to confirm, if you’ve Googled ‘Do I have an alcohol problem?’; ‘How much do I need to drink to be an alcoholic?’ and all the rest of it then – I have bad news for you – you’re already in the club. Or you’re knocking on the door, reeking of last night’s lash, with your membership application signed in triplicate by some randoms you just had an all-nighter with.
Chances are, if you’ve bothered to show up here, it’s because alcohol is an insidious factor in your life – or possibly the life of someone you know. It was an insidious factor in my life, but it isn’t anymore. I was dependent on alcohol. However, change is possible. You can remove the importance of alcohol from your life. You might be scared at that prospect but there really are no downsides to ditching the booze if it’s causing you problems.
You’re interested in the numbers, aren’t you? People usually are. What qualified me to be an alcoholic? A thousand, maybe 1500, units a month? Tick. Days spent drinking before school pick-up? Tick. A committed cocaine habit to mix the booze with? Tick. A stint in The Priory? Tick. That was me. I’m pleased to say though, at time of writing, I’m more than five years without a drink.
I look back and wonder how it all went on in such a ridiculous fashion for so long. Arrests, domestics, jumping out of moving taxis, fighting – all perfectly standard practices when your life is on fire. You too can be a fully-fledged, all-singing, all-dancing, all-aggro alcoholic whilst having a nice house; a decent job; the remnants of a relationship; and a role playing the jester for all your pals. Except, a lot of the time, my pals weren’t laughing. The laughing stops way before you will.
If you’re not already alco-alumni of some description (AA, therapy, rehab etc.) then you might define an alcoholic as someone on a park bench, homeless, everything lost. This is wrong. Problem drinkers, and problematic drinking, needs to be viewed differently and acknowledged. Those overdoing it with a smile on their face are often hiding in plain sight, celebrated as ‘the life and soul’ of the party. A bit of a ‘character.’
Unfortunately, consciously or otherwise, drinking remains a primary motivation for many people and the primary response to, well, everything. Joy or sorrow; victory or defeat, congratulations or commiserations. And unfortunately, society reinforces this narrative at every step. This makes it difficult for those of a certain disposition to walk between the raindrops.
In a previous life I did some work with Crisis, the homeless charity, and they used to say that there are minute degrees of separation between ‘normality’ – or what appears to be an outwardly successful life and being homeless on the streets. It usually happens via sofa surfing initially, then add a little misfortune, unstable mental health and the alienation of friends as you drain their resources to survive. Eventually the milk of human kindness evaporates and you’re on your own and on the street.
It’s the same with alcoholism. The degrees between ‘ok’ and ‘not ok,’ are infinitesimally small. It’s all fun and games until it’s not. It’s not a problem until it’s a massive fucking problem. Society blurs the lines which makes it hard for people to distinguish what is a problem and when someone is simply over-indulging, because, you know, we all do it don’t we? Don’t we?
For the most-part, society’s frame of reference where alcohol is concerned is absolutely skewed, unhelpful, contorted and deceitful – we live in an enabling society that sees the susceptible often stigmatised. Despite a slight shift in the national dialogue around alcohol, and the UK’s drinking habits appearing to improve, the numbers are still bleak.
Around 100,000 people seek treatment for alcohol dependency every year in the UK. How many don’t seek treatment? Heavy drinking is still lauded as a talent and considered a primary leisure pursuit in many quarters. The downward Darwinian drink-spiral continues. Imbibing with impunity. A race to the bottom of the glass for the winning binge boozers.
People also deploy denial as their default setting. (“I haven’t got a problem.” / “I can stop if I want to.” / “I’m not as bad as him.”) Taking false comfort in the fact they haven’t yet experienced any personal cost, but it may be coming sooner than they think. And remember, the dildo of consequence rarely arrives lubed. I’ve had friends nearly lose their life through alcoholism and other friends that went all the way – and died. Three in 2023. Along with 10,470 others in the UK.
It is tough out there and not everyone has the ability to respond to life in a healthy way. Alcoholism came for me. And it could come for you. Maybe it has already. It can come for any of us, our path to oblivion determined by a few small bumps in the road, the absence of personal awareness, a dearth of healthy coping mechanisms and a lack of the magic ingredients: courage and support.
You might be intelligent enough to realise where you are and have the courage to change direction. I know people that have done it all themselves – and well fucking done to them – but that wasn’t me. Waking up and choosing to take action? Acknowledging the damage you’re doing to yourself and others? It takes courage. Dutch courage?
You see where the problem is.
I wasn’t brave.
Who knows how any of this might pan out, but my intention is that my posts help you and yours avert all of the above – they might not do that at all, but we need to start somewhere don’t we?
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