I’m Grey. Not my real name — but everything else here is. This is my overdue alcohol recovery blog.
Most people thought I was doing fine. Respectable job. Decent suit. Good clothes. Quick with a joke. Warm. Friendly. Well groomed. Looked sporty. Sociable with others. Liked 90s dance music too much. Nearing midlife – most didn’t believe my age. Told I was a catch more than once.
But no one saw what happened when the front door closed — the drinking, the isolation, the slow undoing. It didn’t start with chaos. It started like it does for most men: a few pints, long weeks, blowing off steam. Then the excuses. Blaming others. Then the lies.
Then the silence.
When Drinking Took Over
I wasn’t in denial. Not really. I knew the signs — I used to help others through recovery. I still do, daily. Part of the day job. But I ignored my own. I could have started an alcohol recovery blog with my knowledge at any point. The final crash pushing me to actually do it.
Eventually, alcohol stripped everything away. Gradually losing things, binge by binge. Not just my health, but my identity. Sleep, purpose, masculinity, finances, fatherhood — all crumbled slowly.
I lost the woman I had fallen in love with. Let’s call her Isla. There was no big drama, just doubts. I’d stopped near enough by then. But the past damage, the long catch up – finally shown through. And then it got worse. I lost connection with my daughters too. Not legally, but emotionally. They drifted, and I wasn’t there to stop it. They had detached a long time ago. No longer the man that brought them up alone. No longer their hero. Just a “Someone”.
I hit a point where I couldn’t look at myself.
What It Cost Me
I’ve been hospitalised multiple times. Withdrawals. Tremors. Hallucinations.
I’ve sat in waiting rooms wondering how I ended up there. Kept in. Detoxed more times than I can count. Holding the same cup of tea, pretending I had it together. But I was falling apart. I’ve queued at shops at opening time, buying cans. Had Just Eats delivered late into the night for the same. Repeated the same cycle. Told myself I could handle it this time. I also drank just to keep up with societal norms.
I lost time. Presence. Trust. With people who mattered more than anything. The only thing I lied about was alcohol related. They just wanted that version they knew. One that they had seen before or hoped they could always be.
And I lost myself — slowly, completely.
The Rebuild
This isn’t a alcohol recovery blog about just getting sober. It’s about rebuilding everything alcohol wore down:
- Muscle on bones that had gone soft.
- Credit rating repaired.
- Flat renovated by hand.
- Side income built from nothing.
- Career redirected.
- Face and posture changed.
- Masculinity redefined.
- Excelling at my job.
- Planning to relocate abroad.
And I’ve done it anonymously — because the people I let down don’t need to see me trying. They need to see me changed. I also need to protect them.
Why This Alcohol Recovery Blog Exists
This blog isn’t for social media claps or fake motivation. It’s not going to gloss over the truths. It’s meant to be relatable. Maybe your story isn’t the same, maybe it isn’t as extreme. But I was in your shoes too — asking the same questions. I didn’t listen. I’m slowly returning to where I was, slowly becoming the version I want to be.
It’s for anyone like me. Men rebuilding from the wreckage. Quietly. Daily. Brick by brick. Insight how the road back is walkable, but long. Everything needs to change. That help I get others? I started asking for and using it all. I also had to completely evaluate who I had become, not what I could always be.
It’s for anyone starting again at 30, 40, 50, staring at their life wondering if it’s too late.
It isn’t.
You’re not broken. You’re just rewriting.
📌 First Post: “I Just Wanted a Christmas”
This all started with something my daughter said.
It stuck. It still does.
If you’re wondering how things got so far — or if change is even worth trying — start here: