I did not have a stereotypical rock bottom moment.
But there were many times when I woke up not clear on what I had said or done the night before. Times when I would wake in the early hours racked with anxiety, nausea, and shame. Days where I felt wretched, hopeless, and afraid. I knew alcohol was slowly draining me, dragging me down, and killing my motivation.
My husband was concerned about my drinking. He mentioned on a number of occasions that I did not need that extra glass, so I would have it behind his back. At one point I was hiding in the laundry with my vodka.
I would try to ignore his concern or get defensive, but my inner voice would not stay quiet. Especially at six the next evening when, despite the promises I had made myself that morning, I needed just one drink to drown out the noise in my head. Everything felt better after a glass of wine, and I was entirely addicted to the ritual.
As life got more complicated in my mid-forties, the ritual became more frequent. So I took two months off in 2018. On February 28th I felt incredible. I was free. I had proved to myself I was not addicted and could stop any time I wanted.
On March 3rd I rewarded myself. By March 20th, I was back in my old ways.
This story may sound familiar. It is a common experience for grey area drinkers who are highly functioning. We can stop, which gives us a false sense of control. And it often takes multiple failed attempts at moderation before we see the pattern clearly.
My rock bottom was not a single dramatic moment. It was more like a slow slide down a steep slope, grabbing onto branches of hopeful moderation on the way down, until each branch snapped. The deeper I fell, the harder it became to climb back.
It was compounding frustration, disappointment, and self-loathing that finally tipped the scales. The understanding that if I kept trying something that did not work, I was exactly what my inner critic told me I was. And it was not a flattering picture.
The Myth of Rock Bottom
There is a dangerous myth that you need to completely fall apart before you are allowed to take alcohol seriously.
On the outside I was holding everything together. My rock bottom was entirely hidden from the world. Nobody would have guessed how bad things were on the inside, not even my husband.
Most of the people I work with are the same. Highly functioning in day-to-day life. Not spiralling outward but spiralling inward, into self-doubt, regret, and shame, all hidden behind a polished exterior.
You do not need to wait until alcohol has taken everything before you decide it has taken enough.
What Is Alcohol Use Disorder?
The term now used for addiction to alcohol is Alcohol Use Disorder, or AUD. I have no issue admitting that I qualified.
According to the DSM-5-TR published by the American Psychiatric Association in 2022, AUD is defined as a problematic pattern of alcohol use leading to significant impairment or distress. It is diagnosed when a person experiences at least two of the following eleven criteria within a twelve-month period.
Drinking more or for longer than intended. Persistent desire or unsuccessful efforts to cut down. Spending significant time getting, using, or recovering from alcohol. Craving or a strong desire to drink. Failing to fulfil major responsibilities at work, school, or home. Continuing to drink despite social or relationship problems. Giving up important activities because of drinking. Using alcohol in situations where it is physically hazardous. Continuing to drink despite knowing it is causing or worsening a physical or psychological problem. Needing more alcohol to get the same effect. Experiencing withdrawal symptoms such as tremors, anxiety, or sweating when not drinking.
Two to three symptoms indicates mild AUD. Four to five is moderate. Six or more is severe.
I met the criteria for severe alcohol use disorder. And nobody knew. Not even me.
This list requires genuine self-honesty to apply. And it is worth noting that there is no criterion requiring a DUI, a lost job, or a dramatic public incident. There is no stereotype. AUD can affect anyone.
Alcohol Is Addictive by Design
Alcohol is a highly addictive toxic substance. It is classified as a carcinogen alongside tobacco and asbestos. And if you struggle with it, that is not about strength or willpower. It is about the way alcohol takes over the brain’s reward system, disrupts sleep, and raises the body’s stress response over time.
You are not designed to drink it. But years of psychological conditioning, combined with a culture that normalises and celebrates drinking at every occasion, means many people are hooked before they fully realise what is happening.
The result is that you feel exhausted, anxious, and not quite right every single day. But it becomes so familiar that it starts to feel normal. You forget what it felt like to feel genuinely well.
There Is Another Way
Back in 2019 I was not aware there was any other way to stop beyond rehab or AA. I did not feel drawn to either, but I had tried alone and failed too many times.
My experience in rehab led me to this work, because I knew there were so many people like me out there. People who needed real support and accountability, not a dark room and a twelve-step meeting. People who were functioning on the outside but quietly suffering on the inside.
If you have had the courage to read this and to be honest with yourself, you may feel a little uncomfortable right now. That is a good thing. Discomfort creates clarity. And clarity creates action.
This is not a personal flaw. The struggle with alcohol is not a reflection of your character. You are dealing with a genuinely addictive substance in a culture that makes it almost impossible to avoid. That is not your fault.
What you do next is your choice.
To understand more about the science behind why alcohol is so hard to stop, the Science of Drinking resource goes deeper on exactly that. And when you are ready to get support, find out more about working with Sarah Connelly.
With love, Sarah
