The Hidden Struggles of Moderate Drinking: My Journey to Sobriety After Three Glasses of Wine a Night

It’s often difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when one slips into the clutches of alcohol addiction. Curiously, I had always felt a premonition that I might struggle with this, considering that both sides of my family had a long history of substance use, particularly with alcohol.

What tends to surprise many is that I only began drinking at the age of 24. I had a couple of attempts at drinking when I was 18, but I quickly discovered that it was not for me, leading me to avoid alcohol entirely. This changed, however, when a close friend decided it would be funny to sneak vodka into my diet coke without my knowledge.

After that fateful encounter, I began to drink more regularly, and within a year’s time, I found myself downing two or three glasses of wine each night while working from home. By the age of 27, this routine had insidiously morphed into consuming two or three bottles.

Reaching 30, I came to the realization that my drinking frequency was becoming alarmingly high, but I chose to disregard its potential effects on my well-being. My primary concern was that I had stopped going to the gym, despite having maintained a daily workout regimen before that.

As the managing director of a charity I had established, “Men Get Eating Disorders Too!”, I appeared to be managing my responsibilities—albeit in a dysfunctional manner—which, in hindsight, was likely an early indication of my struggle with alcohol. Without any obvious external signs that my drinking was becoming problematic, it was easy to remain oblivious.

The first real indication that my drinking issues had finally caught up to me surfaced 36 hours after I made the decision to quit, with hopes of returning to the gym. At that time, I hadn’t gone longer than twelve hours without a drink. During a sweltering day in July 2016 in London, I could no longer ignore how terrible I felt. I was overheated, with sweat pouring down as I navigated the underground to my destination.

As I prepared to exit the train, I realized that my body wasn’t cooperating with my commands, and my reactions were noticeably sluggish. It was the first moment I recognized that something wasn’t right. It felt like there was a separation between my mind, my body, and my ability to move—almost as if I was experiencing an out-of-body sensation. After somehow managing to exit the train, I made my way to the street above.

Overwhelmed with anxiety, I sought refuge in a coffee shop located across from the station. At that moment, I attempted to bring a glass of water to my lips, but I found myself spilling it all over myself instead.

A woman seated at the table across from me was observing me with keen interest. After a moment, she asked, “Do you need assistance? You seem to be in distress.” She introduced herself as an off-duty nurse from St Mary’s Hospital. “Do you have any idea what’s wrong?” she inquired.

“No,” I replied briefly, my breath coming in quick gasps. My mind raced with the possibility that I might be experiencing a reaction to something, though I knew I wasn’t allergic to anything. Moments later, I lost consciousness, and the next thing I knew, I was being taken by ambulance to the hospital.

It wasn’t until my third visit to the hospital in November 2016 that I learned the true source of my earlier episodes of illness: alcohol withdrawal. “You’ve exceeded the threshold,” was the specialist’s assessment from the local drug and alcohol service. “You need to be referred for detoxification, potentially as an inpatient due to the severity of your withdrawal symptoms,” he elaborated.

Up until that point, it had never crossed my mind that my drinking was contributing to my health issues—specifically, reducing my alcohol intake too rapidly or stopping suddenly, commonly known as going “cold turkey.” “It’s crucial that you keep consuming alcohol to avoid further episodes,” he emphasized, which initially struck me as perplexing medical guidance.

Truthfully, it took me quite some time to grasp the situation, unaware that my nervous system would react violently—due to alcohol withdrawal—if I went longer than a day without a drink.

The most severe symptoms I experienced were intense hallucinations, sometimes referred to as “delirium tremens”. These hallucinations intensified with each relapse following multiple detox attempts, and my condition was worsened by a lack of proper nutrition. Typically, I would hallucinate about spiders and crab-like beings that I could almost feel crawling on me. These moments were incredibly frightening, yet I could never remember how long they lasted.

In November 2019, I faced my final hallucination featuring bats after another attempt to detox. The next eight days of my stay were a blur due to the medication administered to help me safely withdraw from alcohol. All I can recall is that the initial days were exceptionally tough, but I managed to push through. Over time, my symptoms eased, and I began to envision a future for myself. However, the detox process was merely the “easy” part; the real challenge awaited me when I returned home.

There are many individuals out there who, like me, are “over the threshold” and may be enduring their struggles quietly. They might experience unexplained symptoms after a few days of sobriety. Alternatively, they may have succumbed to the urge to drink again without understanding why. In hindsight, had I been aware of the harsh truths surrounding alcoholism earlier, I would have been able to embrace the path to recovery much sooner.

Reflecting on my past, I feel fortunate to still be here. I now understand that if my struggle with alcohol had persisted much longer, I would have been facing a dire fate. The last time I went through detox was especially tough; it starkly illustrated how perilously close I had come. Now, nearly five years sober, I am compelled to share my experience to let others know they are not alone in their battles.

I have maintained my sobriety for two years now. One key lesson I have absorbed is that addiction flourishes in isolation and secrecy, intensifying the need for open discussions devoid of shame. In order to secure many more years of sobriety, I must ensure that my recovery becomes larger than the addiction ever was.

Sam Thomas is a writer, activist, and speaker residing in Brighton, U.K.

All opinions expressed belong to the author.

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About the Author: Chris Lehoux

Meet Chris Lehoux, an experienced wine connoisseur and dedicated blogger with a deep passion for all things wine-related. With years of expertise in the industry, Chris shares insightful wine reviews, valuable wine tasting tips, expert pairing advice, and captivating tales of vineyard visits. Join Chris on a journey through the world of wine, where every sip is an adventure waiting to be savored!