“Alcohol is cunning, baffling, powerful.” — Anonymous
This isn’t a how-to. The opposite. It’s how I nearly didn’t come back — and why I believe you still can. Unlike me, I hope you never get to that same denial stage. I’ve lived through relapse after relapse, hospital beds, losing people I love, and somehow — I’m still here.
I wish all my girls could see the version of me now.
You can Google am I an alcoholic? I did. Many times. I ticked every box:
- Drinking alone
- Hospital admissions I couldn’t count
- Vomiting for days after a binge and hallucinating
- Losing the people I loved, slowly
- Lying to everyone
- Signing hospital discharges that literally said “risk of death”
- Becoming more and more isolated
And still I convinced myself I was fine.
Hospital Beds and Denial
My marriage had ended. Then COVID hit. I was stuck in a toxic house, alone, a key worker during lockdown. One more hospital admission. The NHS were stretched — and I was one more broken man they had to carry.
I moved eventually, but the loneliness moved with me. Maisie stayed 2 nights, the other two rarely. They were older, but trust had declined that much. Am I an alcoholic? Answer was still “no”.
My binges were short and brutal. A few days at a time. I’d get clean, swear it was the last time… but it never was. One Christmas I withdrew alone — hallucinating, vomiting constantly until a drink, not really eating. Alcohol withdrawl can be dangerous – a medical emergency. It can cause many symptoms including seizures and even death. This NHS guide explains the risks and how to contact safely. No one knew how close I came. I didn’t either.
I miss my daughters every Christmas. That’s when the damage stings most. I now realise if I’d stopped sooner, I might still have had them.
A Glimpse of a Better Life
After that Christmas, I went to Addiction Services. Knew a nurse there from back home — she’s helped hugely over the years. I tried Antabuse. It helped. I looked better. Stayed sober. Had fun.
Got a new flat. Landed a decent job. Enjoyed nights out without alcohol. Met someone stunning — funny, kind, who I thought out of my league. She liked the clean-cut guy she had met, he stood out from her many options. For a second, life felt full. Then someone from my past reappeared. My big trigger – and I relapsed. I met my new partner drunk. She said one word:
“Go.”
I never saw her again. And she was right to walk. I hope she met someone and fell in love. She deserves it. Losing a relationship due to alcohol. Am I an alcoholic? The answer was still “no”. Now though I admitted I had an issue with how I used alcohol. Progress.
The Crash That Changed Me
The crash wasn’t loud. It crept in. My job had moved to her town. Every street reminded me of her. The slow mental collapse came — another binge, another admission. I quit the profession I worked hard for. People suspected the truth. They just couldn’t prove it. Never drank at work so am I an alcoholic? Answer was still “no”. The abscences were another story. Becoming more creative.
I got a fresh start: a new job in my hometown — a job I always wanted. Shirt, tie. Respectable. I met someone new — Isla. We knew each other from the past. Had never spoken. Seemed like the universe had made it the allotted hour.
She chased me. I thought she was perfect. Again I thought out my league. We had everything in common. We moved very fast — near enough moving in together. Finally, it felt like everything had fallen into place. Genuinely happy.
Drinking was minimal — just now and then. I loved coming home to her. Cooking together. Laughing. TV. Normality.
That Trainspotting “Choose Life” intro? It suddenly made sense. Choose a career. Choose a fixed-rate mortgage. Choose matching loungewear. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want chaos. I wanted this.
She showed me the life I always wanted — and deep down, knew I deserved, despite my past. She was, without question, the most important relationship I’ve ever had. I absolutely would have wanted to grow old with her, without hesitation.
But I Hadn’t Finished Healing
My finances were broken. I vaped constantly. Underweight. A little chaotic. We drank now and then — and the red flags added up. No major blow-ups… just tiny signs I wasn’t ready.
She ended things.
I was devastated. I loved her — properly. The first time I ever had. She said she couldn’t quite put her finger on it… but I think it was this: I wasn’t someone she could fully lean on. Not then. Hadn’t quite repaired the past. Not fully changed. Close, but not quite the man I or she needed. Then. Am I an alcoholic even though I drank far less with her. The answer was now “maybe”.
Frequent Flier
I drank the moment it ended. Minutes.
Three days later: hospital. Even for me epic amounts very quickly.
I signed “Discharged Against Advice” again — “risk of death” on the paperwork.
Still made work.
Medicated (legally) to hide it.
Back in again a few weeks later. One nurse recognised me. Asked her if she had treated me before. She answered:
“Twice before. You’ve lost weight.”
Others knew me too. Frequent flier. Another nurse gave me a vape. A longer admission again. Discharged with medication that’s rarely given out.
I was seen as “respectable” on paper. But I was broke, mentally hollow, and physically done.
That was the last time I was admitted.
Am I an Alcoholic? The Final Hit
That Christmas, I was a shell.
Maisie wanted Santa. I had nothing to give.
The woman I loved was gone.
I missed my daughters: Hannah, Esme and Maisie.
I’ve seen Hannah once this year. The other two? None.
Esme has stopped responding to texts. Costly lawyers trying to get me face to face contact with Maisie. The texts are reducing but not the love hearts from her. My little girl will soon get more distant.
After that Christmas, I picked up one last time.
Then went to addiction services. I told them everything.
I blew 0.45. Super high.
Three days later, I blew zero.
That was it. I was done. Not quite broken. But I surrendered. White flag raised.
I haven’t had a drink since. Am I an alcoholic? I finally gave the correct answer.
What I’ve Lost
I lost Isla — the woman who made me believe in love. Maybe one day, she’ll check and see what she thought I could be. Maybe this is how it was to happen – part of our bridge of incidents. She will certainly be the love of my life regardless.
I lost years with my daughters — Hannah, Esme, and Maisie.
I was there once. I disappeared slowly. They were all daddy’s girls, particularly Esme and Maisie. I brought them all up alone for long spells. Just now – they are gone. All my girls.
I lost peace.
I lost a future I could’ve had.
I lost finances. So much wasted money. So many wasted chances.
I nearly lost my life.
But I’m Still Here
I work with people struggling with addiction every day — I did in my last job too. I class myself as somewhat of a specialist through lived experience.
I never really listened to myself though. Now, I do.
- I go to AA
- I’m on medication
- I take vitamins
- I eat well
- I cut vaping
- I work out
- I improve my finances
- I learn new skills
- I help others recover
- I get on the shirt and tie
- I socialise without alcohol
- I rebuild – every single day
Blood tests — somehow all fine. “Perfect”, apparently. I’ve somehow dodged so much.
I’ve been hospitalised more than most addicts I know – I’ve lost coount.
I’ve known people who have died.
I’ve seen people lose everything — family, homes, hope.
I’ve also helped some come back from the edge and thrive.
And I know this:
I cannot go back.
If You’re Reading This…
This isn’t a post about shame. I have enough of that.
It’s about survival.
I’ve broken things I may never fully fix.
I’ve hurt people I love.
But I’m still here — determined to transform.
Am I an alcoholic? I am. Only now do I fully accept that. If you have asked the question. I hope you were quicker to realise than me. If not, I understand why. It sneaks up slowly. It can be beaten. It is also a complex and formidable beast. Sometimes though – quite straightforward.
If I can do this from where I was — you can too.
Every journey ends. Every journey starts…
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