MANY men and women the world over become regularly mesmerised by the ‘stupid molecule’, C2 H5 0H, better known as alcohol.
One tenth of the British population now self medicates via the bottle, with the result that deaths from cirrhosis of the liver have risen over the past 25years by 959 per cent among men aged 30-55 and 924 per cent among women of the same age.
Patrick, aged 58, confessed that ten months ago he wouldn’t have been able to talk to me at 11.30am, as he would still have been in bed recovering from the previous evening’s binge, with only another lost day to look forward to courtesy of an almost permanent and monumental hangover.
“I came here five years ago, with not a day going by being sober. My daily intake quickly rose from some beers with vodka chasers to drinking two bottles of vodka, beer, and a couple of bottles of local wine.
“Then I had a bad chest infection, plus an attack of jaundice. The doctor told me bluntly that unless I stopped drinking altogether I would be dead within the year.”
How had he come to this situation?
“It’s simple, back in the UK I only ever drank at the weekends, I had a good job, responsibilities, friends, family, but when I came here, after a few months of doing nothing, I just slipped into this binge drinking mode, because I honestly felt I had no real purpose in life.
“Having worked hard until my early retirement, we had plenty of money, but here there seemed to be no core to my life, alcohol dulled the pain of living what I thought was an undeserved lifestyle, plus I didn’t really want to think about the future as a middle-aged man on the scrapheap waiting to die.”
He got a wake-up call when an old school friend came to visit from the UK. “We were supposed to enjoy a golfing holiday together, but I just couldn’t get up in the morning to play. After three days of this he just sat me down and told me I was a full blown alcoholic and unless I got help he would never, ever see me again.
“I felt so lost and at the same time desperate not to lose this friendship of 30 years that I agreed to go with him to a local meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. It was here I managed to admit to having the grim title ‘alcoholic’, not as I thought ‘bored social drinker’.
“For the past nine months I can now proudly call myself a recovering alcoholic.
“At AA, there are people who really listen, they understand as everyone there has at some time in their lives looked at their life only through a well filled whisky glass. There was also a constant and undeniable reminder of the grim consequences of drinking again. The sad thing is that when I was drinking I knew it was going to kill me, yet something inside me screamed at me that I’d die sooner if I didn’t drink – that is what I call an irresistible physical compulsion.
“Now I can’t even take one drink as that will just lead to more and more, but, without the enormous support of the people at AA I do honestly believe, as my doctor told me, that I would now be dead.”
HERE in Cyprus, holiday binge drinking among teenagers looks like a glorious affirmation of the exuberance of youth when compared with the constant daily deadening effect sought by some resident expats, who cling to the wine box like drowning men (and women) to a piece of driftwood. Go to any bar in Paphos and watch the residents’ steady consumption of mixed beverages, take a peak into the can and bottle laden trolleys lined up at supermarket check outs, and you will wonder if everyone is set upon hosting a party come sundown.
“The biggest part of any addiction is denial.”
These were the first words spoken to me by Margaret, an attractive 50-something retiree who admitted that, when sober she was charming, but deeply dangerous when drunk. “I felt lonely here when I first arrived, sort of empty and these feelings were always fixed when I drank. Unfortunately, I also became quite aggressive and eventually lost all my friends.
“I had my big wake-up call when I nearly killed my granddaughter. I had been drinking at lunch and was supposed to be babysitting while my daughter went shopping in town. I fell asleep on the sun-bed. Susan, then just two years old, managed to crawl out of her bed and toppled into the swimming pool. I mercifully woke up when I heard the first splashing noise.
“Vodka was my best friend during the day, wine my evening companion, and if someone had said I was an alcoholic I would have been deeply insulted. Alcoholics to me were dirty smelly old men who pickled themselves drinking meths, nail varnish remover, and living rough on the streets. For me, it was always good quality vodka, best red wine. To my mind, there was zero comparison to a stereotypical drunk. I was after all educated, comfortably off, and I knew that I could always stop drinking if I wanted to.
“The big problem was that I didn’t want to stop drinking. Without alcohol I would then have to feel, and deal with these feelings. Drinking had become more important than anything else, and on that day was more important than keeping safe my little granddaughter.
“I used to drink if I was depressed, then I was drinking if I was happy, sad, frightened, and nervous, every emotion could be dulled with the help of a couple of bottles of wine.
“The day after the swimming pool incident I saw an advertisement in the paper for AA and plucked up the courage (with the help of three or four shots of vodka) to go to a meeting and see what it was all about. There, I found a support network of genuine, caring, non judgmental and understanding men and women, all of whom had in differing degrees sought solace in alcohol. Despite a few falling of the wagon experiences, plus the huge and constant support of my family and friends at AA, I have now been set free from the power of alcohol for exactly three years and seven months.”
Peter and Mary are both recovering alcoholics who work as volunteers at AA. Both described the cause and effect of their addiction. “We have an illness. Some people can drink and stop when they have had enough. We can’t drink, it’s as simple as that. We have no control over this.
“Through alcohol I have lost self-respect, friends, money, family members and tainted my children’s lives. Trust is the first thing that goes when you are an alcoholic. Nobody will trust you, they have seen it too often, the battle with the bottle. “That’s why AA was the only resource left to me and that’s why I have been sober now for 10 years. But I am not cured. No alcoholic ever is; we are always only one drink away from being back on the bottle.”
Mary used to think about booze all the time.
“I could never understand people in restaurants who ordered a bottle of wine and then left some behind in the bottle when they left. To me that was unheard off. I would drink in the evening then go to bed and get up at 3am and drain another bottle of wine.
“With AA you learn that if you don’t drink the illness stops where it is and hopefully you can get your life back again. It’s not easy giving up. Alcohol is a master seducer but also a professional killer and when you join AA you do join for life.
“Mind you it’s a free membership but one that will keep help to keep you alive.”
Peter added: “If the chemical formula for alcohol had never been invented and someone came up with the suggestion to put this stuff on the market today, believe me no government health authority would sanction manufacture. The formula would immediately be recognised as a totally unacceptable and highly powerful chemical, wholly unsuitable for human consumption, causing blackouts, damage to the central nervous system and vital organs.”
n If you feel you or a friend or relative needs help and support in giving up alcohol, then please call these numbe
rs and speak in absolute confidence to people from AA. 26-653617, 26-652791. AA meetings taking place in towns all over Cyprus are listed in the Classifieds section of the Cyprus Mail.
