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When I was asked to write something for Alcohol Awareness, my first thought was, well this is a subject I know plenty about, but what angle should I take and how do I write something that’s actually useful for the people that need it most? A quick Google search will provide facts and statistics, but if there's one thing recovery has taught me, it's that people connect with stories far more than numbers. Today, working in the addiction field, I realise just how valuable my lived experience has become in helping others. What I want to write about is what happens before someone decides to ask for help, and what happens afterwards.
I know addiction from both sides now. I know what it's like to wake up every morning believing that today will be different, only to spend the evening negotiating away the promise you made to yourself hours earlier.
One of the biggest myths about addiction is that it only affects a certain "type" of person. In reality, addiction doesn’t have any regard for your age, job title, postcode, education, relationship status, religious leanings, bank balance, popularity, ambitions; the elusive nature of addiction is that it does not discriminate, no matter how “ok” you might look from the outside. It certainly didn't ask for my qualifications before it invited itself into my life.
Looking back now, I laugh at some of the mental gymnastics that addiction continually encouraged. I'd tell myself I deserved a drink because I'd had a stressful day at the office. Equally, I'd tell myself I deserved one after a successful day. Midweek? Drink. Friday? Definitely drink. A birthday, a break-up, a sunny bank holiday weekend, a duvet day, a drizzly day, and of course, let's not forget payday... drink, drink, drink! At that point in my life, I could find almost any excuse to crack open the nearest bottle.
To top it all off, there was the constant self-deception that it would be just the one. It almost never was.
If you've ever found yourself negotiating with your own brain like you're trying to close a million-pound business deal, you're not alone.
The truth is, alcohol often starts as the solution before quietly becoming the problem. It promises confidence, relaxation, connection and relief, but over time it slowly takes those very things away. What begins as a coping strategy can easily become the very thing that keeps us stuck.
The good news, and there really is good news, is that recovery gives those things back. Not overnight, and certainly not without effort, but little by little, with consistent action and a desire to change.
People often ask me whether I miss drinking. Occasionally I miss the idea of drinking. What I don't miss is the guilt, the secrecy, the constant bargaining with myself, or feeling like I was never quite the person I wanted to be. I certainly don't miss waking up each morning convinced that a strong coffee, loaded with three sugars washed down with a half smoked cigarette from the night before, while promising myself "never again", somehow counted as a recovery plan.
One of the things that surprised me most about recovery is that it isn't really about alcohol at all.
It's about learning how to sit with uncomfortable emotions without trying to escape them. It's about discovering who you are when you're fully present. It's about finding joy in ordinary things that once seemed impossible to enjoy without a drink. It's about rebuilding trust, both with the people around you and with yourself.
Recovery doesn't suddenly make life perfect. As they say, "The good thing about recovery is you get your feelings back. The bad thing about recovery is you get your feelings back." I still have stressful days. I still get anxious. I still have moments where life feels totally overwhelming. The difference is that I now have healthier ways of responding, so I don't have to hit the self-destruct button every time life gets difficult. That didn't happen overnight. It came through guidance, repetition, building healthier habits, and learning that asking for help is a strength, not a weakness.
Something I often hear from people entering treatment is, "I wish I'd asked for help sooner."
I've never once heard someone in recovery say, "If only I’d waited longer for things to get worse."
Whether you're reading this because you're worried about your own drinking or because someone you love is struggling, please know this: asking for help is not a sign that you've failed. More often than not, it's the first sign that recovery is about to begin.
Having been in recovery for a number of years now, I've also witnessed addiction from the other side of the coin; supporting others through it, both personally and professionally. Addiction rarely affects just one person. It ripples through families, friendships and relationships, leaving loved ones feeling frightened, frustrated, confused and often completely helpless, no matter how well you might understand the illness.
If that's your experience, please remember that your wellbeing matters too. Support isn't just essential for the person in recovery; it's equally important for those walking alongside them. Trying to carry someone else's recovery entirely on your own shoulders is rarely sustainable. Recovery is built on connection, and none of us truly recover alone.
If there’s one thing recovery has taught me, it’s that people are far more resilient than they realise. I’ve watched people arrive at their lowest point, believing there’s no way back, only to find a small spark of hope that grows into lasting transformation. I’ve seen families reunited, self-belief restored, and individuals go on to achieve things they never imagined possible, discovering a life that’s not only free from alcohol, but finally rich with purpose, meaning, and possibility.
Recovery isn't a straight line. It's messy, uncomfortable and wonderfully human. It's learning to forgive yourself, finding joy in the ordinary, rediscovering who you are and, ultimately, finding the freedom that addiction had convinced you, didn't exist. Some days you'll feel like you've got it all figured out. Other days you'll be disproportionately proud of finally tackling that washing pile that's been judging you for a week. Both count as progress!
So this Alcohol Awareness Week, rather than asking, "Why don't they just stop?", perhaps we should ask ourselves,"What pain might they be carrying?", and "What can I do today to help them feel less alone and safe enough to ask for help?" Because recovery often begins not with the right answer, but with one person asking the right question.
A little curiosity coupled with compassion goes much further than judgement ever will.
And if you're quietly wondering whether your own relationship with alcohol has changed, or whether it's becoming more of a companion than you'd like, perhaps let this be your reminder that you don't have to wait until everything falls apart before asking for help.
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