Everyday I speak to someone who feels hopelessly addicted - whether they are drunk or sober - and every time the word they use is the same: relapse. The fear of slipping backwards. Returning to where they started. And it can't happen. It's not real.

A "helpful" new drug which could help problem drinkers reduce the amount of alcohol they consume will today become available to UK patients. If dep...

The number of people being admitted to hospital with liver problems as a result of alcoholism is rising dramatically, figures suggest. And the amou...

Making sobriety your b*tch means you get to be in charge. No, you do not drink. No, you do not think about it. Do not entertain it as option. Your body is not going to go renegade and pour itself a drink. Become obsessed with sobriety. Why is it such a strange suggestion?

We've got it all backwards. Horribly backwards. And its killing us. This awful catch 22 situation. If we wait to admit and accept we have a drinking problem in our society? We are waiting for end-stage alcoholism. Or alcoholic Alzheimer's. Or being arrested. Or being injured horribly.

Nobody likes a pretty-girl drunk. That's a deal-breaker right here. A pretty-girl who is a little bit tipsy? Cute. A pretty-girl a little unsteady on her feet? A bit giggly? Charming. But a pretty-girl who is a messy, sloppy, belligerent drunk receives twice the vitriol reserved for even the most unsavoury of drunken characters. It offends us, seeing this pretty girl displaying her internal ugliness for all to see. It's like taking a shop window display and covering it in garbage. Nobody wants to see that. Keep your window displays clean and bright.

Forgive the unexpected intermission. Where were we? Yes, that's it. I was fumbling around, trying to get the hang of living in a wheelchair in a new part of London, waiting for my broken back to heal a bit more. But in my last update, I glossed over some of the worst of what was happening.

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.

I recovered from alcoholism when I was able to stop drinking. Finally. I recovered from being disabled when I was able to maintain walking again. Consistently. I recovered from the years of isolation when I was able to live back in the world again. Joyfully. So many recoveries.

Russell Brand has been calling for empathy for addicts, and he is right. Whether you adore or despise Brand's Marmite-like character doesn't really matter; you should still listen to him. He understands addiction. He understands addicts.

My nan is all kinds of great. She is strong. She had six kids in nine years. She worked. Raised a big family on very little. She's seen a lot of life and she never judges anyone. But there are some problems outside her realm of experiences these days. So as much as my nan remains my favourite person, she's not always the most relevant. Oldest is not always best.

England is a nation of secret boozers, with more than a third of the population drinking unhealthy quantities of alcohol, new research suggests. Th...

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 when it turns red. You just stop.

I don't frighten easily. I lived in a constant state of fear for so many years that it takes a lot to reignite it and take me to that dark place now. But when I see people using end-stage alcoholics to measure their own drinking against? It frightens me. When I see the media latch onto one person, the exception to the rule that has been able to subject their body to horrendous amounts of alcohol abuse and still just about function? It frightens me. Alcoholism is not a p*ssing contest. There is no glory to be had in being further up the sliding scale than these individuals.

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? How can anything feel like it's worth this much? This is my why...

Alcoholism is ugly. And though only the drinker feels the physical impact of the drinking - the pain of the self-inflicted injuries - the toxicity of our lifestyle tarnishes every single person we come into contact with.

I have long been bothered by an inexcusable absence among the many recovery options available to people struggling with addictions: marijuana is not considered a viable substitute.

I've experienced first hand some truly incredible behaviour. I've had sommeliers refuse to address a wine to a female companion, or a bartender refuse to serve someone a particular drink (baffling).

A quick fix in January is not enough to repair the liver and keep it healthy, experts warned on Tuesday. The British Liver Trust called on the Gove...

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 would finally be over. The seventh New Years Day I felt safe and reassured in the knowledge that I won't be back in a bar again in a few hours time. The shaking under control. The panic numbed and medicated into submission by the glass in front of me, and the one after that. And the one after that.