I am aged 35 & live with my partner & 3 children. I am due to get married in April & have been with my partner for 10 years whom I love dearly. I am in recovery from Alcoholism & have been sober for 6 years now. My life has been a rollercoaster ride of up’s & downs since childhood. Having drank alcoholically since age 13 to escape an unhappy family life. This is my story.
I grew up in South London within an Irish Catholic family. The 4th of 5 children, life at home was hard & money was scarce. My Mother was a Gambling addict & my Father – a manic depressive – was also an Alcoholic. My Parents met each other whilst both patients in the notorious Maudsley psychiatric hospital. My Mother found herself a patient having suffered a breakdown after the death of her Father in 1974, whereas my Father was a regular patient as a result of his Bipolar & excessive drinking.
My 3 elder Brothers spent most of their childhoods in local authority care. Myself & my younger sister were spared this, thankfully. However, our lives were very unsettled. My parents, both in the grips of addiction & mental illness were in truth both too selfish to be parents. Although I do believe they did the best they can, the fact that the rent was never paid, the electricity/gas bills were never paid, & the house was always cold explain the extent of their parenting skills. As young children, living in B&B’s having been evicted for non payment of rent yet again was a normal occurrence. Finally, thanks to my Uncle, a local club owner & business man, we were given a council flat in South London, where I lived from the age of 6 to 16. My Uncle, whom I adored, had paid one of the local counsellors to put us at the top of the waiting list. My Brothers now almost grown up lived with us here & the atmosphere was very tense all of the time. My Father & Brothers constantly fighting, my Fathers drinking & mental illness, my Mother’s 7 night a week Bingo & fruit machine habit (hence leaving no money for food, rent or heating), daily violence in the form of beatings from my eldest Brother whenever anyone got in his way, & my youngest brothers criminal behaviour – leading to CID dawn raids & subsequent visits to see him in prison, constituted my daily life. Fear was the only emotion I could relate to. Although bullied & unhappy at primary school, & suffering sexual abuse from the family GP on a weekly basis, I kept this all to myself. I learnt to. I was in the way & that was perfectly clear, I was expected to not be seen or heard & in my later teens, that suited me fine. Had I told my Mother that the family GP was touching me in a sexual way she would not have believed me anyway. My only childhood escape was my weekly Ballet lessons at the local youth club, which I loved & was very good at. However at the age of 14, I decided to give up my Ballet dreams, & a possible scholarship at a top Ballet school for the bottle. A gang rape at a local park, by 3 older boys who were supposed family friends at the age of 14 did not help me make an informed decision. Inside I felt I was dead. I did not report the attack & kept it a secret for 14 years. Any dreams of escape into the world of the Arts were smashed from that day forward. Fuck life! I decided not to choose life – that was for other people. People who had something to live for.
Small wonder that I found comfort in those shared bottles of Thunderbird blue & 20 20 on the South London streets with other unhappy teens. Drugs, & the rave scene in the early to mid 90’s soon followed, & I thought that I had found my ultimate escape. I learnt to play the clown, & found the respect & attention I craved from friends on the street. I was part of a strong family on the street – the Millwall FC family, & we looked out for our own. My Mother was none the wiser when I rolled home stoned & pissed at 3 in the morning, or frequently not at all. I had ceased to give a fuck what she thought a long time ago anyway.
I left secondary school with a few GCSE’s & lifelong bonds with friends I had made there. Unlike the shy & scared skinny primary school victim, I had since evolved into a popular & tough teenager thanks to the booze & drugs. I did not give a fuck anymore & this Identity was perfect to hide the real pain & loneliness I felt inside. I left home at the age of 16 with a bin bag full of shoes & clothes & my portable TV set, a gift from one of my Brothers many ‘Jobs’. I did not look back. My Boyfriend of 2 years had a room in a Hostel in Peckham, which we decorated with rave flyers, stuck to the wall with chewing gum. We spent our days in a haze of raves, drugs, drink & Millwall games. I felt free for the 1st time ever in my life & thought this small room in a dingy hostel, sharing a bathroom with 8 other people was bliss. The relationship soon turned sour however. For when he did not have his head in a glue bag, he was using my head as a punch bag. I was attending a college in West London studying for A Levels in Media & Government & politics. We funded our lifestyle on his Dole check & any other money he could get his hands on selling drugs for the local big boys. Although careful, I found myself pregnant at the age of 18, so I promptly left college & A Levels behind & got a job in an Opticians shop in Waterloo station. This led to us being offered a small flat in South London, which we decorated & made a home. We always had a full house, & I became sick of coming home after a full day’s work to the stench of drugs & the mess. I started to get pissed off with dealers cutting their drugs in my kitchen & my so called partner sitting on his arse all day doing fuck all. Needless to say the violence escalated after I made my feelings felt, & I finally decided to stop being a victim. This was no place for my baby Daughter, & I was determined to give her everything I had never had. My Mother, by this time Divorced from my Father & living in East Sussex with my sister, persuaded me to up sticks & move to Sussex with my Daughter to start a new life. My Mother seemed stable. She had a nice flat & was happy to be living near her Sister. She had a PT cleaning job & my Sister was settled at a nice school. I decided that if I wanted to make something of my life this was the only answer. This was my 1st Geographical, there were many more to come. By this time I had no idea that I was suffering not only from the illness of addiction, but also the same illness that had plagued my Father for most of his life – Manic depression. The panic attacks had started just after my Daughter was born, & these were fast becoming a daily occurrence. I moved in with my Mother & Sister whilst I looked for a place of my own. My 2nd Brother, whom was married & had 3 children, was already living in the area & I was able to spend quality time with my Young niece & nephews. It was not long however before the addiction again started to make my life choices for me. I started work in a local bar, & attached myself to a hard drinking wild living new crowd of friends. I started to forget my responsibilities as a Mother, leaving my young Daughter with my Mother whilst I spent days & nights in a haze of drink, drugs & blackouts. I woke up in strange places, with strange men, having no idea how I had got there or what had happened the night before. Was this normal I asked myself? I knew deep down it was not, & the shame I felt at my behaviour at 1st was enough to stop me – until the next drink. I had been a blackout drinker from the word go, yet my behaviour seemed to start spiralling out of control very quickly. I found that I needed more & more alcohol as time went on. The panic attacks grew ever more prevalent. I had started to drink behind the bar at my job, & if I found myself short of money to buy drink I would just open the till & take it. Although I felt guilty, I needed that drink – nothing else mattered. Although by now I had found a small flat for my Daughter & I, she spent more time with her Nan than she did with me. My Mother was fed up with this situation, but was unable to say no. I believe she felt guilty for the way I was behaving, although it was not her fault.
A few months later I met the man that I was later to marry. He was a customer at the bar & seemed the life & sole of the party. He was 6ft tall & an ex bodybuilding champion, & 13 years my senior. He took an interest in this skinny 19 year old barmaid & I was flattered. I did not know that he was an Alcoholic too, & far more advanced than I was. All I knew is that he made me feel protected something I had longed for all my life. He was the Father figure I was looking for in the beds of all the strange men I had found solace with in blackout. In my mind he was the one who was going to be my prince & carry me away to the fairytale life I was sure existed for everyone else. I had childish expectations, which I learnt soon after were always going to be unrealistic & unattainable. I was still looking for someone to fix me. We married a few weeks later in a haze of drink & drugs. The 1st night of our honeymoon was spent sleeping on the beach in Brighton, having missed our train to Portsmouth to get the ferry to the Isle of Wright because we were in the pub drinking. Once we got there all we did was fight. I threw my wedding ring out of the window on the 3rd day in a drunken rage. He was possessive & controlling, I was soon told that I was not allowed to work in the bar anymore. I was told that I could not go to bars with friends on my own or speak to other men. If a man spoke to me & he caught them he would deliver his fearsome retribution to them with his fists. He had a reputation in the area as someone not to be messed with. I soon found myself feeling very isolated. His drinking got worse, & daily binges soon turned to weekly binges. He would often disappear for days with no contact, leaving me at home with My Daughter & our newborn Son, whom he had seen for 20 mins after his birth & promptly went on the piss for a week. I was 21 & I felt like I had lived the life of a 50 year old. Surely there was more to life than this? I justified my lonely evening drinking sessions at home with the conviction that you too would drink, if you had him as a husband!
My Mother in law was a member of AA & had been sober for over 20 years. We had a close relationship, & I confided in her all my problems & she became the Mother I felt I never had. She told me that my husband was an Alcoholic, & that I was one too. She convinced me to go to the rooms of AA & try to get sober. I hated the idea; however I wanted my marriage to work, so I went to the meetings with my husband as moral support to him. I could identify with what people were sharing in the meetings but refused to accept that I too had a drink problem. I was 21 years old for fuck sake! The thought of spending my Friday nights in a church crypt full of old people drinking tea & eating custard creams filled me with dread! These people said they were Alcoholics, yet they looked smart & were laughing & happy, & I resented them all. I was told to keep coming back, which I did, even though I could not put the glass down for longer than a week.
As time went on our marriage problems got worse. He was rarely home & hardly ever at work. I soon found the pressure of a young family & a full time job as a fashion store manager too much to cope with. My drinking became daily. Once the kids were in bed I would sit alone in my living room & drink myself into oblivion. My mental state was fast becoming unhinged. The panic attacks were all consuming & the black depressions – followed by manic episodes were starting to interfere with my job. Eventually I was unable to work anymore. My husband managed 12 months in AA without a drink, before one Sunday morning going out to buy a newspaper & never coming home. Months later I found out that he had picked up a drink that Sunday & ended up somehow in London. Once there he committed a robbery in blackout & had gotten arrested. He was sent to Belmarsh jail, & our marriage was now officially over.
And I drank, boy did I drink! I was a mess. Bodily & mentally wrecked. I was 5 stone of misery & I let everyone know about it. I struggled with the kids, & they spent most of the time split between my Mother & my Mother in law. I was in & out of AA but unable to get it together. In reality I needed psychiatric help badly. Over the last few years the GP had diagnosed depression & panic disorder, & I had been prescribed every drug from vallium to prosaic to promazine & every drug in between. None of them worked. I lost the house & ended up living back with my Mother. A 12 day benzodiazepine detox was arranged via a local Alcohol team & although very ill & suffering from Kidney & liver problems, I slowly started to function again. My mental state however was awful, with the depressions becoming ever bleaker. I went back to AA meetings & decided to make a real go of sobriety, hoping that the panic attacks & depressive episodes would just go away. They did not.
I found a house for myself & the kids at the other end of town & tried to busy myself with making a home for us on my own. Although my family, who were very negative anyway, told me that I would never cope, I proved them wrong. I got a PT job & enrolled my two young children into a local school. I attended AA meetings & we even got a dog from a local rescue home, who we enjoyed taking on long walks. We spent most of our weekends at my best friend Gail’s house in the country, which we loved. I had always loved the countryside & resided myself to the fact that we too would one day live in the country. My Ex husband by this time had just been released from prison & I was worried that he would make trouble for us. As it turned out, he came out & shacked up with a woman he had been seeing since before we split up. As he was still drinking & now using hard drugs, I was glad. She could fucking have him. He could be her problem now. We lived happily here the children & I for over a year. I started to make friends locally & my self esteem started to improve – though without the alcohol to mask it, my ever manic moods were still a problem. I saw GP after GP, & took pill after pill, but they were unable to stabilise it. I was sleeping all the time & I stopped eating. I could not understand why this was happening. I had stopped drinking, what the fuck more could I be expected to do? I felt like I was cursed. Then without warning one sunny day, my best friend introduced me to someone who she had grown up with in Hertfordshire, who was staying with her & her family for a few weeks. We hit it off straight away & as the weeks went on I found myself starting to have feelings for him. He was different from my husband. He was very easy to talk to & I found myself really opening up to him about everything from my unhappy childhood, to my awful relationships, & even the sexual abuse & rape I suffered, which I had never told anyone about before. We had a connection & it was mutual. We became a couple & moved in together a year later. I had finally found my soul mate, the person for which all the past experiences had led me to, & I finally started to understand what true happiness was. But the depression was still there, the background music to my daily life.
We made my dream move to the country a few months later with the children & within the year our Son was born. I adored the house, which had 100ft long garden & views over the Sussex countryside. After years of geographical’s I finally felt like I had found home, somewhere I could stay forever & make a home & a future. I took a PT job in the offices of a local IT company & things from the outside looked idyllic. However, although still sober in AA my mental state was gradually taking a nosedive. I was either sleeping for 3 days straight or not sleeping for 3 days straight. I was either in the depths of total despair, or cleaning the house from top to bottom at 4am. My family did not know what was wrong with me & my partner tried to get help via the local mental health team, which was useless. He was told he had to wait 6 months for me to see a specialist, as we were in a rural area. The only help available was a psychiatric hospital 45 miles away in Kent, but they were oversubscribed. The situation was becoming desperate & I was becoming suicidal. I had to leave my job as I was unable to work, & I spent my days sat in my room alone, unable to function. This carried on for several years. The last straw came sometime in January 2008, when I was found in bed with a load of packets of pills, some empty, with no recollection of how they came to be there or if I had taken any. This was the last straw for my partner, who, now good friends with my clean & sober ex husband, telephoned him in crisis. The children taken to my ex Mother in laws, both he & my ex drove me to a crisis assessment ward in East Kent. I remember very little of this, except that I was in a room with 3 doctors & they were asking me questions. After about 1 hour my partner & ex husband were told that I was suffering from untreated Bi Polar affective disorder, probably since the age of 18. They were very surprised that other GP’s had failed to make the very obvious diagnosis before now. Having assessed the risk of self harm, & made sure that I would not be left alone, I was discharged on a prescription dose of 75mg of Venlafaxine, & 100 mg of Quetiapine, which were anti- psychotic drugs & should stabilise me within 72 hours.
Within a few days the fog started to lift & I started to eat & sleep properly. I was given access to a qualified psychiatric counsellor who was in regular contact with me. Life started to pick up again & after a while we decided to move back to town so that our teenage Daughter could access college the following year, & I could access mental health services more easily. We loved our country home, & had brought our children up happily here for the last 8 years. However, it was very isolated & had very limited services. We found a lovely house the following year & made the move in April 2009. The house needed a lot of work, however we all chipped in & we have been very happy here ever since.
It is over a year on since we moved here & I am starting to become more stable, although it is still a battle some days. I find I have a very bad sleep pattern & often can’t sleep until 6am, thus not waking up till after 4pm. Some days I am depressed & some days I am full of energy, but most of the time I am just me. I medication dose has increased to 150mg & 300mg daily, which I am told is the standard dose. I now accept that I have Bi Polar, but will not allow it to take over my identity. My self respect is increasing as I tell myself that I am not bad, I am ill, & I will no longer allow myself to be a victim. I am due to start a new PT evening job at the local hospital any day & am still attending AA meetings & living sober. We have a fantastic close relationship with my ex husband, who is clean & sober & the best friend anyone could have. The children are wonderful, & a constant joy to our lives, & my partner & I have decided to get married in April/May of 2011.My ex husband, also the Godfather of our youngest son, will be the best man. I also hope to pass my driving test soon, which is a goal I have had for a very long time.
The aim of this blog is purely selfish, as I know from my 12 step programme that writing is very therapeutic. However it is my hope that it will also help others who once felt as I did, to get the help they need. Some days my blog will be funny, some days sad, some days upbeat, & some days pure angry! But always, it will be honest, & a testament of my willingness to survive & live life to the best of my ability one day at a time. Here begins the journey, fasten your seatbelts!
Love & life,
