How brave you are writing with such excoriating honesty. I had a father who chose booze above all. Heart attack & stroke at 49. He got the care he didn’t deserve from my mother. She exposed us to his violence, she was terrified if she left he would kill her. She earned, he drank her earnings.
Drinking to self medicate makes things worse, as you know. Losing days to hangovers, having mind blanks, vomiting bile, none are fun.
Unlike you, I didn’t make a mental decision to stop, I just no longer fancied a drink. Shortly after I was diagnosed with fatty liver disease. Since then I may have a glass of something very, very occasionally. There we differ.
I wish you all the blessings of being sober for life
Not a wonder. I have always been honest about his violence & addictions. Even when they were taking place, I refused to cover it up, even when both parents denied it & said I was a teenage drama queen.
After his stroke he tried to trip me with his stick. I took it off him & refused to return it.
I grew a shell. I’m sure you did too.
The reality of alcoholism should be told. There is nothing cool or glamorous about it.
You are the wonder for ripping the sheet away & showing the result of alcoholism so forensically 👏👏👏
Thank you sincerely, Hannah Betts. I'm sober, too. And there are horror stories I'm not telling. Your words ring deep and I couldn't be more grateful. Wishing you peace and congratulations.
So appreciated your courage in writing this. Perhaps especially because I'm flirting with total sobriety - have gone from drinking 3 or 4 days a week (luckily I was able to just have a glass rather than more but it was still a compulsion) to having a glass every few weeks. It's mainly restaurants/meals I'm finding really hard to crack the ritual of wine with - though I made a bit of a break through this week when I just drank water and didnt bother trying to find anything else. But like you say, booze has got so many cool things that go with it, accessories wise (even nuts/olives/crisps!). I can totally relate to the whole "how do I have giddy fun again" thing too - my therapist encourages me to access myself as a small child who had plenty of giddiness without booze, encouraging me that she was still in there! Anyway. All of this to say, the fiercest of hugs to you and your darling brother and family about your Dad's death. That is so so tough, and inquests are a lot too. Thank you for sharing as you say, the very non glamorous side of booze. Also PS does your lovely partner drink and how does that go, also something that is a learning experience. Thanks again for your exquisite writing xx
Thank you for passing his experience on, when he wasn't able to. Stories like this help keep me sober, because my head can lie and make me think it wasn't so bad, when it was absolutely frickin horrendous.
Drunk Hannah and Kate would have had some wild all night adventures! But I much prefer sober Hannah and Kate drinking tea and watching whippets frolic in the garden at 11am.
I can’t imagine how hard this was to write, Hannah, but I’m so grateful that you did. Your poor, poor father. I just passed 2,000 days but sometimes need reminding that there’s no room for complacency. Huge congratulations on your own milestone.
Me too, comrade. Always. And congratulations. I don’t want to sound facile when I say the first 2,000 days are the worst. They totally are. The next 2,000 are considerably easier.
Heartbroken for you, your dear dad and all who witnessed him at his most brutally unwell. What you’ve achieved in quitting is so inspiring, as is your writing x
Goodness what a sharp light you focused there - exposing all the corners of your experience. I had similar with my beloved dad who, despite being a gymnast, an athlete, a professional footballer and then Physical Training Officer in the Royal Navy was addicted to smoking. As a child I used to beg him to stop, refusing to enter into anything to help enable his addiction. Of course, as I always knew it would, cancer caught up with him and he spent the last five years of his previously sport-filled life, hardly able to climb the stairs. Outwardly I had to tow the party line of sympathy and care but that child in me wanted to yell 'I told you this would happen!' at every opportunity. He died aged just 72 looking as if, in his own words, he was 92. The sense of inevitability haunted me for years afterwards. Could I have made him stop? Why didn't my mother make him stop? That was nearly 15 years ago. By rights he should still be here now. His loss is a massive shock even now. I absolutely hear you.
Oh, Dawn, how utterly nightmarish. The absolute torture of watching it happen. And it stays being a shock, doesn’t it? There isn’t any getting beyond it.
You arrested me. I feel that our dear late companion would have truly been unstoppable without the bottle’s promise. To this ferocity of love and truth 💗
Thank you, thank you so much for writing this. My dad is in the last stages of alcohol-related dementia.
He also taught me to drink, we shared many a whiskey and much wine. I stopped drinking alcohol in 2015 (age 48) because it was destroying me and my sons. I have NEVER enjoyed a “pink cloud” either. I could sink a bottle of crisp white without batting anything but I won’t, not any more. It would kill me because it would be two or three bottles and then a gin or two or the bottle. Not ever ever again.
Even writing this is hard, because we’re taught such shame for those of us who become addicted. There are also other people in my wider family who have become addicted and some have died because of it. Others have ditched the booze. Family affliction? Who knows but what I do know is that for me alcohol is poison and I can never drink it again.
Amazing piece, Hannah. Not easy to read and I imagine not easy to write. But an amazing piece of writing x
You ARE kind, my dear. I know it’s awful, but I think the glamour of drinking sanitises the horror.
How brave you are writing with such excoriating honesty. I had a father who chose booze above all. Heart attack & stroke at 49. He got the care he didn’t deserve from my mother. She exposed us to his violence, she was terrified if she left he would kill her. She earned, he drank her earnings.
Drinking to self medicate makes things worse, as you know. Losing days to hangovers, having mind blanks, vomiting bile, none are fun.
Unlike you, I didn’t make a mental decision to stop, I just no longer fancied a drink. Shortly after I was diagnosed with fatty liver disease. Since then I may have a glass of something very, very occasionally. There we differ.
I wish you all the blessings of being sober for life
Dear God, I am sorry, A. I cannot begin to imagine experiencing this is childhood. You are a wonder.
Not a wonder. I have always been honest about his violence & addictions. Even when they were taking place, I refused to cover it up, even when both parents denied it & said I was a teenage drama queen.
After his stroke he tried to trip me with his stick. I took it off him & refused to return it.
I grew a shell. I’m sure you did too.
The reality of alcoholism should be told. There is nothing cool or glamorous about it.
You are the wonder for ripping the sheet away & showing the result of alcoholism so forensically 👏👏👏
A devastating but beautiful read. You inherited his planet-sized brain, for sure.
Not an easy read at all but thank you so much for sharing. Well done for 10 years. Xx
Thank you sincerely, Hannah Betts. I'm sober, too. And there are horror stories I'm not telling. Your words ring deep and I couldn't be more grateful. Wishing you peace and congratulations.
So appreciated your courage in writing this. Perhaps especially because I'm flirting with total sobriety - have gone from drinking 3 or 4 days a week (luckily I was able to just have a glass rather than more but it was still a compulsion) to having a glass every few weeks. It's mainly restaurants/meals I'm finding really hard to crack the ritual of wine with - though I made a bit of a break through this week when I just drank water and didnt bother trying to find anything else. But like you say, booze has got so many cool things that go with it, accessories wise (even nuts/olives/crisps!). I can totally relate to the whole "how do I have giddy fun again" thing too - my therapist encourages me to access myself as a small child who had plenty of giddiness without booze, encouraging me that she was still in there! Anyway. All of this to say, the fiercest of hugs to you and your darling brother and family about your Dad's death. That is so so tough, and inquests are a lot too. Thank you for sharing as you say, the very non glamorous side of booze. Also PS does your lovely partner drink and how does that go, also something that is a learning experience. Thanks again for your exquisite writing xx
Thank you for passing his experience on, when he wasn't able to. Stories like this help keep me sober, because my head can lie and make me think it wasn't so bad, when it was absolutely frickin horrendous.
Exactly the same for me, comrade. Still. Plus even that first “fun” picture ends in my almost killing myself aged 27.
Unspeakably beautiful and profound, Betts. x
Drunk Hannah and Kate would have had some wild all night adventures! But I much prefer sober Hannah and Kate drinking tea and watching whippets frolic in the garden at 11am.
Your coin is everything.
I can’t imagine how hard this was to write, Hannah, but I’m so grateful that you did. Your poor, poor father. I just passed 2,000 days but sometimes need reminding that there’s no room for complacency. Huge congratulations on your own milestone.
Me too, comrade. Always. And congratulations. I don’t want to sound facile when I say the first 2,000 days are the worst. They totally are. The next 2,000 are considerably easier.
Heartbroken for you, your dear dad and all who witnessed him at his most brutally unwell. What you’ve achieved in quitting is so inspiring, as is your writing x
Oh, Hat, *thank you*
Thank you for posting this so that all of us could read it. A moving, honest and beautifully written piece.
Goodness what a sharp light you focused there - exposing all the corners of your experience. I had similar with my beloved dad who, despite being a gymnast, an athlete, a professional footballer and then Physical Training Officer in the Royal Navy was addicted to smoking. As a child I used to beg him to stop, refusing to enter into anything to help enable his addiction. Of course, as I always knew it would, cancer caught up with him and he spent the last five years of his previously sport-filled life, hardly able to climb the stairs. Outwardly I had to tow the party line of sympathy and care but that child in me wanted to yell 'I told you this would happen!' at every opportunity. He died aged just 72 looking as if, in his own words, he was 92. The sense of inevitability haunted me for years afterwards. Could I have made him stop? Why didn't my mother make him stop? That was nearly 15 years ago. By rights he should still be here now. His loss is a massive shock even now. I absolutely hear you.
Oh, Dawn, how utterly nightmarish. The absolute torture of watching it happen. And it stays being a shock, doesn’t it? There isn’t any getting beyond it.
I’m so, so sorry for your loss, Hannah. 🌸💕
You arrested me. I feel that our dear late companion would have truly been unstoppable without the bottle’s promise. To this ferocity of love and truth 💗
She would.
Thank you, thank you so much for writing this. My dad is in the last stages of alcohol-related dementia.
He also taught me to drink, we shared many a whiskey and much wine. I stopped drinking alcohol in 2015 (age 48) because it was destroying me and my sons. I have NEVER enjoyed a “pink cloud” either. I could sink a bottle of crisp white without batting anything but I won’t, not any more. It would kill me because it would be two or three bottles and then a gin or two or the bottle. Not ever ever again.
Even writing this is hard, because we’re taught such shame for those of us who become addicted. There are also other people in my wider family who have become addicted and some have died because of it. Others have ditched the booze. Family affliction? Who knows but what I do know is that for me alcohol is poison and I can never drink it again.