50-something, married, fit, happy grown-up children, successful business, plenty of friends, even a chocolate Labrador!

But something wasn’t right. My nightly glass of wine had somehow turned into a bottle, way more when socialising.

I was up early, off for walk, a long day in the office. All the while, a little fuzzy and bloated, but no hangover as such, or outward, obvious signs of a problem with alcohol.

Was I the only one doing this? Nobody seemed to be talking about it, but I had an endless dialogue in my head. I’ll cut down. I’ll only drink on weekends, I’ll only drink when socialising, I’ll have three alcohol free days a week… But I had an inability to do any of this.

While I hadn’t labelled myself alcohol dependant or openly declared I was addicted, what else could it be? It was an every-night habit. I struggled not to do it. I didn’t like it, but I did it anyway.

Thankfully I managed to stop. More than three years since my last drink I’m committed to an alcohol-free life. I don’t feel as though I miss out. In fact, I feel like I’ve escaped the world’s biggest con.