Spotting the signs
And knowing when to stop
Looking back, it’s clear that I had a drinking problem from the very first time I drank. At the time however, I did not have a clue.
If I had known earlier, could I have changed the way my alcoholism developed? I would like to think so, but I honestly don’t know.
What I do know is that if you recognise any of the behaviours that I am about to describe in yourself or in someone you know, you can take action and prevent this terrifying disease from taking over.
The very first time I got drunk I loved the way alcohol made me feel and I instantly wanted more. The feeling great and wanting more were both intrinsically connected and completely separate phenomena. Naturally, anything that transformed me from introvert to extrovert was going to win me over, so I would always go back to that. But the wanting more was driven by something else. Even though I was already really pissed and feeling amazing for it, I instantly wanted more and wanted that ‘more’ now. I recall spotting someone’s drink unattended, so I quickly picked it up and downed it. My friends stared at me shocked. I laughed and thought it was brilliant! I blacked out after that, and don’t remember the rest of the night. I was thirteen years old. The very first time I got drunk the signs were there; I was already a ‘problem drinker’.
As a young teenager I doubt I knew what an alcoholic was, and it would never have occurred to me that I might be one. All my friends and all the ‘cool kids’ drank alcohol. Meeting up in the park and getting drunk on cheap cider was just what kids did where I grew up. I would tell my parents I was going to a friend’s house and off I went, eager to start drinking as soon as possible. I would often be the first person to finish my cider and I would then start pestering others to let me have some of theirs. They didn’t have any more than me to begin with, they just drank at a sensible pace. I just always wanted more! I wasn’t happy with being drunk. I wanted to be really drunk.
Once I began drinking in pubs, bars and nightclubs I was always the one drinking the fastest, ordering doubles instead of singles, or calling for shots or Jager-bombs, with the aim of getting as drunk as possible as quickly as possible. I’d spring up at the sound of ‘last orders at the bar’, desperate not to miss out on one last drink. I knew I drank more than most people; I just thought it was because I loved getting drunk. I was blissfully unaware that the way I drank was a sign that my relationship with alcohol was far from healthy.
The sign I didn’t spot: When it comes to alcohol, wanting more is a clear sign that you need less.
Do you, or someone you know, drink like this? Some people can drink like this and not develop addiction. If you are worried though, a conversation can change everything. Even just raising awareness that regular heavy drinking causes long-term changes to neural pathways in the brain, leading to heavier reliance on substances and potentially addition, could transform someone’s life.
At the age of eighteen I noticed a very obvious indication that my drinking was a problem. I got the shakes. My hands shook, sometimes my legs felt liquified, my head spun, and my heart raced. As a nervous, shy teen in a customer-facing hospitality job, these new physical hangover symptoms did me no favours. My anxiety increased and as a result my desire to quash my anxiety with alcohol escalated. Several of my friends worked at the same place and we would all go out drinking together after work. I would have white-knuckled through my hangover and by evening would be ready to drink again. I was the only member of staff who had to be permanently rostered on late shifts because I couldn’t be relied upon to show up in the mornings to start work earlier.
The signs I spotted but ignored: The shakes and the inability to perform in line with the rest of the team at work.
If you are experiencing similar side effects from drinking, my advice to you would be to seriously reduce your alcohol consumption. When your alcohol use interferes with your job, your family life, your friendships and/or gives you withdrawal symptoms the next day, don’t plough on regardless. Be kind to yourself, accept the problems that your drinking is causing, and seek out a support group or person.
By the age of nineteen there was no denying it. I had developed chronic alcoholism. I had been packed off to Italy by my parents on a ‘keeping up with the Joneses’ style gap year activity. I was to attend a Foreign Language school for six months and become fluent in Italian. It did not go to plan. Struggling with chronic anxiety, entirely out of my comfort zone, surrounded by outgoing and confident students from around the globe, fear became my constant companion. I did not have the necessary tools to survive this upheaval. I could not cope. Of course, wherever there are students, there are parties and alcohol. I became a night owl. It was not long before I started needing alcohol to sooth my nerves the next day. I found I couldn’t leave the house anymore without at least a few drinks inside me. Along with the horrendous physical symptoms, the fear, confusion and shame, I also I suffered from agoraphobia and night terrors. I was drinking in the morning and during the day, just to keep the withdrawal symptoms at bay. Needless to say, I did not learn much Italian.
I lived in a shared house and slept in the same room as another girl. Friends were in and out constantly. An otherwise empty wardrobe compartment next to my bed was filled with empty vodka bottles. I was too drunk to remember a lot of that time so I can’t say this with certainty, but I am fairly confident that no-one broached the subject of my drinking with me or suggested that I needed help. My parents came to Italy to meet me and travel home with me. By some miracle I slowly weaned myself off alcohol. I couldn’t return home a chronic alcoholic. There was no way I could have anyone back home finding out! I had to keep up the pretense that I’d had the best time in Italy! By the time my parents arrived, I was still drinking but had cut down dramatically. Phone and email conversations with them, my complete failure to attend the foreign language school, plus the state I was in when they met me, would have indicated that something was seriously wrong. They chose to ignore it. My mum chose to focus on my weight gain instead.
The sign everyone around me spotted but ignored: I was an alcoholic.
Please, if you have someone in your life whose drinking is out of control, do not avoid the hard conversations. Why did nobody try and help me? Especially my parents. Why? Why did they ignore the glaringly obvious fact that I was a young girl with an alcohol abuse problem? There is nothing more terrifying than fighting addiction alone. Your conversation may not have the desired immediate effect, but it will make a difference in the long run. Showing that you care and that you love that person, that you are there for them, is worth much more than you can imagine.
For the rest of my adult life until I finally got sober at age thirty-two, I could not change the painful fact that I knew I was an alcoholic. As a teenager I was unaware of the path I was heading down. From the age of nineteen, I knew but I was not ready to admit or accept it. I spent the next thirteen years of my life trying to moderate my drinking and living with the burdensome secret of what I had experienced in Italy. I wavered between feeling like I was in control to teetering dangerously on the edge of chronic addiction and oblivion again. I was terrified of developing a severe addiction again, but alcohol always lured me back.
Like me, at some point in your drinking story you will reach the point when you know you have a problem with alcohol. If you know and are already attempting to moderate your drinking, I applaud you. However, if you know deep down that moderation is not the answer, I urge you to stop while you still can. Please don’t keep drinking, convincing yourself that it will be ok. If you know, then you probably also realise that your attempts at moderation will fail (because, you know, alcoholism) and you won’t be ok. Don’t wait until you reach that point. Seek help now and start living your life. A life fighting encroaching addiction is exhausting. Getting sober and finding joy without alcohol is going to be your best life. Trust me, I’ve tried them both. Alcohol free wins every time.
I wish I had stopped drinking so much earlier in life. I wish the support had been there. I wish my parents had done something to help me when I was nineteen and struggling with addiction. I wish the shame brought about by the stigma prevalent in society had not stopped me from seeking help. I wish I had known that I could survive without alcohol in my life. I lived for too long with this terrible feeling deep inside me that one day this two-step I was dancing with alcohol would not end well.
My wish for you is that you can stop drinking before it’s too late. Your only regret will be that you didn’t stop sooner.
Thank you for reading My Secret Sobriety.
Kate xoxox