“My recovery will remain the thing I am most proud of for the rest of my life” – Joe’s story
This week we meet Joe, who was determined not to let history repeat itself.
Eight years since his last drink, he has built a new, "unrecognisable" life - including fulfilling his dream job as a gardener.
This story contains discussion of self-harm and suicidal thoughts. If you would prefer not to read about this topic, we have other stories you can read on our website.
My father was also an alcoholic.
In 2011, he lost his job after crashing his car while drunk. In 2013, he died alone in his bed at the age of 52 with chronic liver disease. At the time, I couldn’t understand why he kept choosing alcohol over and above everything else, despite everything it had cost him.
Of course, my own drinking was ‘different’. I was a fun drunk; it was social. Yes, I drank at home on my own, but I wasn’t getting blackout drunk. Until I was. It wasn’t affecting my ability to work. Until it was.
I wasn’t drinking before midday. Until I was. I wasn’t getting up in the middle of the night for a drink to stop the sweats and shakes. Until I was.
It might be true that you have to reach rock bottom before you can start getting better, but there’s always a little bit further you can sink first.
With the help of the Manchester Drug and Alcohol Service, I had my first home detox in 2015. Stopping drinking by ‘going cold turkey’ can be dangerous and even fatal, so I was prescribed sedatives and visited daily by an alcohol nurse while my mum came to stay with me at home for a week.
A month later, I was back to waking up in the middle of the night and reaching for a drink. A second detox in 2016 was more successful. I was sober for almost six months before I decided to ‘treat’ myself to a couple of pints. Again, within a month, I was drinking around the clock.
At this point, I was resigned to facing the same fate as my Dad. Alcohol had beaten me. I got the last bus to the seaside one night, downed a bottle of whiskey on the promenade, and walked straight out into the ocean, hoping that would be the end.
I blacked out, and the next thing I remember is being in the back of an ambulance, soaking wet through and freezing cold.
To this day, I have no idea how I got there, who spotted me, who stopped me, or who called 999. One day, I’d like to find out and let them know I’m doing okay.
This was getting towards the last chance saloon. A third detox in 2017 with Change Grow Live’s Norfolk service in King’s Lynn was the toughest yet. The ‘kindling effect’ means that alcohol withdrawal becomes more severe with each detox, and I could barely stand for days. The shakes were uncontrollable despite the strong sedatives. My Mum (bless her), who has never smoked in her life, was tasked with rolling my cigarettes for a week because I couldn’t keep my hands steady.
Despite that, in some ways, the detox was the easy part. Being suddenly confronted with the damage I’d caused, without having my crutch to fall back on, was terrifying.
The story of my recovery will remain the thing I am most proud of for the rest of my life.
Now approaching eight years on since my last drink, my life is unrecognisable. It isn’t without its challenges – whose life is? But the cliché is true that it gets a little bit easier every day, and with a great support network around me, living the sober life keeps getting better.