I love my son Marcus with all my being, but there was a time when alcohol drove a wedge between us. As an alcoholic, all you care about is that bottle, and drinking was way more important to me than being a good father.
Alcohol has always been in my life. I grew up in a time when the rules around alcohol were more relaxed. From the age of 13, my brothers would buy me pints at the pub. Then, in my early 20s, I worked in the corporate world where there was a beer at 5 p.m., wine with dinner, a lot more spirits, and then shots somewhere at 3 a.m.
Things got worse about seven years ago when I started having serious eye problems. I have done every test imaginable at every best clinic in the country, but to this day no one has been able to find the cause. At one point I couldn’t read my emails. Fortunately, doctors were able to reverse the decline in my right eye, but I have now lost 90% of the vision in my left eye. These days I still walk into things, I can’t always see people, and I’m lost in the dark. It’s been a huge adjustment, and when it first happened, I couldn’t get through it.
But rather than talk about it and be honest about how terrified I felt, I made jokes and pretended everything was okay. Behind closed doors, I buried myself in the bottle and my drinking skyrocketed.
About five years ago, when Marcus was 14, I was really struggling. I had already separated from Marcus’ mother, but we had always co-parented and my relationship with Marcus had been extremely close. Before my drinking problem started, I was the type of father who called him every day; we regularly went to rugby together and enjoyed being in each other’s company.
But when my drinking accelerated, I went from drinking bottles of wine and beer in the evening to drinking more in the afternoon. At the end of 2020, the first thing I thought of when I woke up was having a drink. At that time I was taking vodka because it got me drunk faster.
Because I ran my own legal business, even though I was away most of the time, I could pretty much keep my professional life together. But later, when I finally hit rock bottom, I had to be honest with my management team and ask for their help. It was difficult: being honest about the seriousness of the situation.
I have always been very smart about hiding my addiction. I would run away for drinks when no one was looking, and because I had a high tolerance, I could still be with Marcus and function. Despite everything, Marcus was not stupid and he understood that I was not the father he had known and loved. It’s hard to admit, but he once found me asleep in my bed, surrounded by empty bottles. It’s not my proudest moment.
Things gradually got worse and I started to give up on him. I forgot to pick it up, I didn’t show my face at rugby and I was distracted most of the time by thinking about the next drink. Marcus had always been my main priority but now it was alcohol.
One day his mother intervened and told me I needed to seek professional help. Even though I agreed to go to rehab, as crazy as it sounds, I didn’t really think I had a problem. When I got out, I immediately started drinking again. It became the cycle – in total I went to rehab five times.
And so on. I was drunk at all hours of the day. Marcus stopped seeing me, and the sadness I felt around me pushed me even more towards the bottle. We were both stuck in our own pain bubbles. I destroyed myself with drink; Marcus has cut himself off from his feelings. He never exploded or rebelled, but he stopped. We’ve talked about it since, and he realizes it was his way of dealing with how overwhelming it all was. We both know now that it’s best to let these difficult emotions out and try to manage them.
But at the time, the more I drank, the more I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I got to the point where I was in a pit of drunken misery and it seemed no difference, in my mind, whether I lived or died.
Then one morning in September 2022, a miracle of sorts happened. I was sitting with Marcus in the backyard of my parents’ house, and he turned to me and said, “Dad, you’re 42 years old and you still need your mom and dad.” I’m 17 and I need you.
I was at a very low point in my life – feeling lost and alone doesn’t even begin to describe it – but those words hit me like a ton of bricks. It was at that moment that I realized that I had a purpose in my life: I had to become a decent father to my son again. I went back to rehab and it was not fun. It took commitment and hard work. But the focus groups opened up a whole new way of looking at life, and the connections I made showed me that many other people were having similar experiences. I felt completely supported and understood by the staff and other patients. Even though it was hard at the time, I didn’t look back.
My sober life is amazing. I feel and look ten years younger, I can face my feelings without being terrified, I communicate honestly and I give myself a break. I realize that I am human, with human flaws, and that I can only do my best. Then last year I started Claritee Group, a company that runs Be The Spirit, alcohol-free events for those who want to socialize but for whatever reason – sobriety, pregnancy, health – they don’t want to drink. It was a great success.
My relationship with Marcus is closer than ever. We spent many hours discussing what happened and I told him that I am deeply sorry for what I put him through. I seriously injured him. It took time to rebuild trust, and for the first six months of my sobriety, he was afraid I would relapse. It’s important that he understands that communication between us broke down when I was at my worst because of my obsession with alcohol. It wasn’t his fault. And luckily, we can talk about anything and everything now.
There were a lot of tears shed, but it’s healthy. These emotions need to come out and be shared. And these days, we also laugh a lot. Marcus is a beautiful soul; respectful, polite and gentle. He studies business and economics at Leeds University and, although he enjoys himself, he is not a big drinker. We won’t be together for Father’s Day because he’s traveling to Thailand, but we will Face Time and I think we’ll share the love. Just yesterday he sent me a message saying he was so proud of me.
Marcus saw me at my lowest, and it was one hell of a roller coaster ride. Life was a disaster and I ruined everything, but my son forgave me. He’s the reason I’m starting over. And right now, it feels good.
As told to Jenny Tucker
Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 3 months with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving deals and more.