Ahh, alcohol. That well known cure for life's curveballs. I've had some trials and tribulations in my time, and viewed alcohol as my rock throughout. And it was. The one I was bashing myself against, repeatedly.
Unresolved issues + booze = some quite erratic behaviour. Turbo-charging my way through turbulence, I have been a liability on many an occasion (I'm too embarrassed to elaborate). Shame led to more drinking. Laughing it off to the point you make a meme out of yourself visibly drunk in an attempt to hide the pain and keep the party going.
Anxiety and depression inevitably follow. I routinely downplayed the amount of units I drank on any medical form, although one GP saw through my BS and referred me for six weeks NHS alcohol counselling. It didn't work because I wasn't ready. With the drinker identity firmly fixed, I didn't think I could ever give up. Your brain lies to you and says this is who you are. This is the way you have a good time, despite the downsides.
Still drinking, a vicious cycle repeats ad nausem. Pour me, poor me. You become selfish and hurt people you love because you put alcohol at the centre of your life, so much so it starts to control you.
After some failed attempts at CBT, being a north London cliche, I saw a therapist for a year. Although it's not entirely my bag, it did help me reach a point where I could move on to a new place.
I don't want to paint an entirely gloomy picture here. I've had some really happy times and many cracking nights out, which I remember with a smile. I will keep all the photos of me being happily drunk and laugh at the 'do you remember when?'' anecdotes. I'm still here to enjoy the ride, just not white-knuckling it this time. I am now very aware of how to maintain good mental health, which for me, goes hand-in-hand with maintaining sobriety.