Women's Health Stories

I am not sure whether or not I was born to be Alcoholic, the jury is still out from my point of view on the genetic connection. Very strong arguments for this to be the case and indeed both my parents were Alcoholic. There is a common thread through the family tree of vague causes of death too, which could quite easily have been connected to booze. My Father died of cirrhosis at 57, my Mother of early onset dementia, and heart failure at 62, attributed to heavy drinking. But I ask is it genetic or is it learnt behaviour?

I am a twin. I first experience of tragedy caused indirectly by drinking, was the death of my twin brother Andrew, aged 22 months. My Mother and Father had been invited to a cocktail party, and for some reason decided to take us along. The venue was near an old Mill, with pond, Andrew fell in and drowned. I shall never know why we were anywhere near the water, but the event and the subsequent grief throughout my Mother's and my life were searingly painful. To lose a child is possibly the worst experience any parent can have, but the circumstances of that death must be truly haunting. For me, I felt constantly that the wrong twin drowned, that it should have been me. I have an elder brother, but there was something that nagged me all my childhood about the fairness I suppose of me still being alive. On Andrew's gravestone, it reads, 'A Borrowed Treasure.'

No one could get over this, but my Mother really did become a different person, distant. My Father just drank and worked harder. Neither decided that it might be a good idea to cut down on the sauce. As I did in my drinking days, they drank on anything, good news, bad news, upset or celebration. There was another 'accident' this time with me. My Uncle's dog bit my face badly, at a Sunday lunchtime drinks party. I had to have plastic surgery to correct the damage. My top lip still bears the scar.

It was not the greatest of starts in life but I never questioned either of them about it. My Father died when I was 13, so perhaps an in depth conversation with him would have been inappropriate when I was so young, but my Mother was never approachable on the subject, ever. Not the death of my brother, or my Father. Excuse the pun, our family just bottled everything up, hid feelings, kept secrets. I remember little of my toddler hood, only that I rarely spent any time with my Mother, just a Nanny, who I think was brought in because Mum just couldn't cope.

The lack of communication and secrets and lies were to shape my teenage years, and the beginning of my drinking career, and later when I heard the words in an alcoholic haze from my husband to my son 'Shhhhh, Mama is sleeping' those long lost memories of my Mother prostrate came flooding back. The scene was set for my teenage years, my inner loss and loneliness was to shape my personality on an epic scale.

I was, I think, an instant Alcoholic. My first bender was when I was 16 on a Skiing trip to Austria. I wanted to be noticed and fun, there was a boy who I really liked who I thought would like me more if I was the life and soul, needless to say I made a complete arse of myself, and from that moment on, I just saw booze as a good way of covering up all the dark stuff.

My teens and twenties were just a party. I did get married, albeit briefly to an older man, at 19, it was short lived, because he was sensible, rich and boring, building a future for us I suppose, and I just wanted to be a social butterfly fired up on rocket fuel. Never had a hangover, never felt remorse just loved people and pleasing everyone, that was the aim, but I probably was just entertainment value looking back on it. I met my next beau, who was also older but funny, eccentric and like me drank like a fish. We spent the next few years drinking, having wild outings, his Mother was an old drunk hippy who lived in Ibiza, so life, as far as I was concerned, was perfect. I designed top of the range kitchens, earned a fortune and spent it all.

The drink now was beginning to have a few consequences, and the hangovers started. But for a drunk like me, the only way to cure them was to have another drink. I hadn’t started drinking at breakfast, but any excuse to have one at lunchtime. The world I lived in and the friends I had all did the same, even bigger drinkers, which again I now know is common, always found someone who is a bigger boozer, and it makes you feel much better.

At 29 I was living with my mad man, having a bit of a fling with my boss, and then met my now husband. He was crazy, but a workaholic, and he swept me away with dreams of being loved, adored, looked after and a future of beautiful homes and babies. We lived in London where his work was for a while, exciting and new for me, just pleasing myself and shopping, eating out and loving the buzz. I was now drinking not just wine, but gin. It was all a jolly jape and I think my beloved was so entranced with me, he went along with all my whims.

We eventually settled down in my all-time favourite place in the world, the Yorkshire Dales. It was the Eighties, we were rich, we had the perfect restored farmhouse, with acres of land, all the animals I loved, and I fell pregnant. Heaven. For nine months, miraculously, I didn’t touch a drop. As soon as baby was born, healthy and beautiful, the champagne came out, and then hell approached at top speed. Within a few months of the birth, I was drinking anything. Vodka mainly, but it didn’t matter, I hid bottles all around the house, I was lost.

My husband worked from home, and really became full time carer for me and the baby. The recession hit, I knew through the fog of booze that we were in trouble, so I just drank more. Nothing would stop me, nothing. I fell, I lost weight, just had a liquid diet by this time, I looked dreadful. No-one came to my parties anymore, and in the end the forever house was repossessed. Baliffs took the cars away, and I just kept drinking. I was mean and nasty a really horrible drunk.

By some miracle my husband found an ex skid row bum, who was sober and he got through to the old Sarah. He mended me. Doctors were lame with advice, nice counselling people had tried, but I needed someone that truly understood me. I got sober, and faced the world for the first time since I was 16 sober. It was bloody hard to do. And I have tried to drink like normal people do once or twice, it just never worked, within a week I was on a litre of vodka, so 12 years ago I finally said goodbye to my best friend, worst enemy, in a bottle.

I knew I really had to do something about the abysmal care for women like us with alcohol, and to that end I worked at all sorts of jobs including cleaning and housekeeping so that I could become qualified in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy and Addiction counselling. The edge was of course that I completely understood every reason and excuse in the book for drinking heavily and habitually. No book or clinician could ever explain that, possibly the most perplexing problem on the planet even now.

Harrogate Sanctuary was born as an official entity in 2006.

Up until 18 months ago I had been under the radar, just like the drinkers that I helped. No social media, no website, no real knowledge of how powerful technology could be. But one client, feisty full on and just gorgeous, made me realise that I was being really foolish not being open about Harrogate Sanctuary. There was an absolute light bulb moment. Why should I hide away, surely the more open I was then it would lead to other women like me being open too. What started with a website and an article in the local paper has now snowballed, and we have clients from all over the country, getting their control back. The joy of course of technology is that we successfully operate remotely, although it is ideal to meet at least once.

The six weeks of daily contact with me is set to suit the client. Not me. The aim to make everyone feel comfortable and not in any way disrupted. I am very aware that apart from the change of routine with drinking, all other routines if possible should stay in place. We are by nature, creatures of habit. Nor can we afford to be disengaged with our families. This is an illness that has affected them, and they are the best people to offer support, not a generic alcohol worker.

Because of this empathetic approach we now have recovery rates of 90%. There are no meetings with strangers to attend, this is one to one, me and you. Nothing is reported to any agencies, and we are fully CRB checked. Over the years 702 women have been through our programme, and I am happy to say the vast majority stay in touch. There is enormous respect between us all.

The fee for this bespoke work is really a trade off. Whatever you spent on drinking is my fee for getting you not drinking. If you visit the website, www.harrogate-sanctuary.com you will find my contact details, and press on our work. So if you think that you would like to move on to a commitment in real life to the liberation from dependent boozing, just give us a call.