I worked in hospo. Cooking mainly everyone did a bit but I could never stop. One day I couldn’t come in anymore, just too much fear. I stayed in bed closed the curtains didn’t answer the door or the phone and that was that.
Three years of trying to stop drinking and nothing was working for me. Eventually I staggered into this place and people looked after me. I think the thing is to keep trying, like giving up the fags. Keep trying I tell people, just keep trying.
My mother would abuse me when I was young. She’d shame me and make me feel useless. She comes from a family of alcoholics – I had no idea, but we talk a bit now. I realise none of this was normal.
Sounds hippyish but love, unconditional love is what saved me. And also wanting to stop. It took me a long time to realise that. It’s not about stopping because other people tell you. It’s about stopping because you want to.