Life Sucked...

Where to start? The beginning? What beginning? When did it begin... At the moment I have so much to say, but have no idea here to start or what to start with...

I believe I have what people call "an addictive personality"... I get addicted to things: spending money when I get it, alcohol...

My first "foray" into drinking was when I was 17 years old and I went to the doctor because I wasn't sleeping very well. Instead of a two week course of sleeping tablets, he advised me to have a glass of sherry half an hour before I go to bed... This went down like the proverbial lead balloon with my stepdad "him"...

With "him" not liking this sherry drinking, it was like a green light to me... He hated it, I did it...

"Him" and Mum used to take my brother and sister away most weekends, I used to go as well, but now I wanted my independence and stayed at home.

Some weekends I'd manage to get hold of a bottle of cinzano or a two liter bottle of cider, which I would drink with friends if they came round before I'd drunk it myself... Leaving me "wasted."

Old enough to go to the pub myself, I would frequent the local Miners Welfare, the booze was a lot cheaper in there... Another place was a hotel in the next village that put on discos every Friday, Saturday and Sunday nights.

I'd have somewhere between 6 and 9 pints a night if I had the money to buy them. I also smoked back then...

Over the next few years I found my husband, and we bought a house despite me being unemployed...

We had weekends away camping with friends, regular parties at home and at friends. All included drinking copious amounts of cider...

My drinking slowed down a lot when I fell pregnant with my children, born five years apart. I love both my children as much now as I did the day they were born. They've grown up to be upstanding citizens, polite, well-mannered adults.

They're doing what they want to do with their lives and they're happy, which is all I want for them, as any Mother would want for her children.

The drinking started again when my daughter was about 3 years old. A Bacardi and coke before bed went to two then three... But I would never drink before 9 PM, when the children would be asleep...

I changed the spirits to vodka as it doesn't smell as much as brandy and Bacardi... Over the years the alcohol intake increased steadily. Several times a year I would try cutting down the amount I had every night, but that never worked for very long. Something would upset me and I'd drink even more to drown my demons.

During these years I never stopped working part-time—playgroups, dinner lady, bookkeeper. Went into retail part-time 10 hours a week—never did 10 hours, it was always more, sometimes much more; one week I did 44 hours... Not fun...

I was still drinking.... Even more now...

I stayed with the same company, but moved from one town to another for a job with more hours as shop supervisor. I got on with everyone to begin with, but the manager had "small man syndrome." Several of the girls, including myself, had been reduced to tears on the shop floor because of him...

Things came to a head when the manager complained to HR that he was not being taken notice of and we were doing as we wanted. He had been off for several months having fallen from a ladder some 30 feet up while sawing branches from a tree.

The running of the store had fallen to the assistant manager, myself and another member of staff...

The drinking increased...

I moved stores once again, but this didn't work out as I couldn't work the way the manager wanted at times...

The drinking increased even more...

I changed jobs going from retail to the post office franchise of one of the Co-Op regions. At first this was great! But as the weeks, months and years dragged past, the job had me feeling worse. The attitude of the assistant manager towards me at the post office I worked in did not help. As I was very flexible, I could work in any post office. I was sent all over to cover absences and staff shortages. I liked going to the other offices and dreaded going back to where I was based.

Things really started going downhill when I injured my back and had seven weeks off work. I could no longer lift any of the large parcels or the mailbags any more. I couldn't walk as far or as fast as I'd used to and parking was a huge problem in the city centre...

The drinking increased to the point I was drinking 4 to 5 bottles of wine and up to 2 litres, yes 2 litres, of vodka a week.

Eventually I was reported to HR who came out to breathalise me... I was still way over the drink drive limit...

My children came to pick me up from work. I made an appointment at the doctor's with the nurse practitioner who diagnosed alcoholism and depression. She told me I also had to see one of the Doctors because of the severity of the depression. I got an appointment with Dr. B an hour later.

I was given leaflets for Addiction and for the Mental Health Team. Later that day I called both of them, self-referring as I had been told to. Dr. B advised not to just stop drinking, but to decrease my intake over time. I had tried that so many times in the past, and it didn't work... I stopped drinking that day, risking seisures, etc.

Dr. B gave me antidepressants at a low dose and kept an eye on me, having to go back once every four weeks to see how I was coping. Four months later I was on the highest dose I could be given.

The mental health team phoned me back and managed to get me in to see a counsellor straight away due to the severity of my depression. My problems stemmed back to childhood and the way "him" had treated me. "Him" had been very "handy," often taking a swing at me for reasons I did not understand why. "Him" was also very good at belittling me, putting me down and telling me I was stupid. This is now known as child abuse. I wished I had told someone back then, but hindsight is a wonderful thing...

I'm a lot better now, my alcohol consumption is very little and my depression is mostly under control.

I'm not looking for sympathy, I don't want any. All I want is for people to understand that things might look great on the surface, but underneath all, hell could be breaking loose...

If you know someone that is drinking to excess like I was, please try to talk to them. Don't judge them and don't promise not to tell anyone else, as they may need medical intervention. Let them know they can talk to you about anything, let them know you're there for them anytime. I couldn't talk to anyone, even my husband didn't know how bad I had become—I shouldn't say bad, I should have said how unwell I had become.

Alcoholism and depression are not good bed-partners, they fuel each other constantly, making today worse than yesterday...