When did you hit "rock bottom"?

Tell me your "rock bottom" story.

There is not a chance you've made it through even the first tentative steps of recovery from alcoholism without hearing both of these sentences. Which is a real shame given what a pile of sh*t they both are.

Anti-social behaviour. We like talking about this a lot.

We like talking about it so much we gave it a name. Always worrying. Like we're inviting more of it in, and excusing it at the same time. We're pretty good at that. Labeling the problems we aren't too keen to...

Relapse: The most damaging word in the English language.

I rail against this word. Hard.

Because it's not real. Because the idea of it destroys lives. Because it's the Emperor's New Clothes of all recovery. It is darkness and fear like no other, a formless terror that knows no respite.

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

No thanks

Serenity does not bring sobriety. Needing to accept you cannot change your drinking is a lie. And believing either will almost exclusively lead you straight back to drinking. Make sobriety your b*tch instead.

Making sobriety your b*tch...

The first step to getting sober is admitting we have a problem-right?

Wrong.

Not even close.

The first step to getting sober is to stop drinking. The second step to sobriety is to keep doing it.

That's it.

Done.

We've got it all backwards. Horribly backwards. And...

A pretty-girl lives in a different world from most. A world where doors are always opened. Drinks paid for. Gifts given. Everyone is nice to the pretty-girl. All she has to do is show up, be admired and let everyone else do the majority of the elbow-work. A pretty-girl makes...

Some people know things others do not. That a home is supposed to be a place you feel safe. Comfortable. A little haven from the rest of the world where you can relax and just be yourself.

Some people do not live with a drunk.

The elephant in the room....

Sometimes when I cannot sleep at night, I imagine going back to talk to myself at different moments of my life. Going back to the teenage me, taking that first drink out of her hands before it touches her lips, telling her she must never touch that stuff, no matter...

In 1935 Bill Wilson founded Alcoholics Anonymous using a template of 99 men and one woman. Before my time yet a very significant year. Because not only was AA born that year. So was my nan.

My nan is all kinds of great. She is strong. She had six kids...

I don't like it when I hear people talking about "giving up" drinking.

I don't like it because it doesn't really work.

It's not about sacrifice. The very term "giving up" alcohol I take issue with. Nobody "gives up" drinking, the same way nobody gives up at a traffic light...

I went to uni with this bloke called John. John had 'a problem'. He was thrown out of halls of residence for his drinking. He would get paralytic at parties, wet himself. John was notorious for his drinking. Everyone knew of him, we saw him every day, wasted and hopeless....

Three letters. Tiny word. Massive question. Why would you choose to drink when you know you can't stop? When it is frightening and it hurts you and everyone around you? Why do something you know is ruining your life? What could possibly be so wonderful to you about drinking that...

I'm in a bathroom. I know that much. I know I have a casting today. I know if I don't go my incredibly scary agent is going to shout at me. A lot. Again. I look in the mirror, and note with relief that I can't go because I'm covered...

Lance Armstrong lied. A lot. To everyone. His own Mam, His children. The public. His employers. For years. Thousands upon thousands of untruths.

I don't care.

And I don't mean I am disinterested. I'm not. Far from it. I mean that I don't care. Not because I encourage massive amounts...

The truth cannot stroke your hair until you fall asleep at night. it cannot entwine itself with your body because it feels there is no other way for it to rest until morning.

Tell it anyway.

The truth cannot convince you of your beauty when you know your ugliness is...

Last night was my seventh New Year's Eve. The seventh I woke up recalling what I did the night before, and the day before that and yes even the weeks leading up to it.

The seventh New Year's Day I woke up not wanting to die, just so that it...

Remember pen friends? In my experience they were poor buggers forced to write to me from far-flung, exotic locations such as the next Catholic middle school down the road. We would laboriously converse about ground-breaking subject matters such as what our pet rabbits were called and how we liked our...

How will I know when I'm better?

I had a lovely wander around Central London one evening this weekend. I'm a big fan of pretty lights and it really doesn't get much prettier than the view of the buildings by the river in December, on the South Bank. Everything is...

From illness to wellness is a journey much like any other in life. It's a road you embark on alone, but if you are lucky enough you meet felllow travellers along the way. And like many journeys, not every traveller gets to see the final destination. For those who fell...

There once was a girl who was great at being not-so-well. She wished and hoped very hard to become good at being very-well-indeed. Luckily for her it turns out wishes do come true...it's just sometimes even the best wishes need a helping hand...so with that in mind...here's a bit of...