As part of Alcohol Awareness Week, MP Neil Coyle shared an honest account of his relationship with alcohol. In this guest blog, he reflects on his experiences and the lessons he's learned.
It’s been over four years since my last drink, and people sometimes congratulate me on the willpower for stopping over that time. Whilst the stopping is what people notice, the dangerous part is the prior years: the time I was drinking more than almost anyone I knew yet would not have believed I had a problem.
By the end I was getting through a dozen pints a night, five nights a week. Over 200 units a week, when the official Chief Medical Officers’ (CMOs) low risk guideline is 14. I told myself I had it under control, because I always had as a ‘big drinker’ from a drinking family.
"A health check found my heart was beating so fast and irregularly that I was at serious risk of a stroke."
My daughter was just six. If I had carried on, I might not have been around to see her turn 10 in April this year. Drinking caught up with me publicly too, in ways I’m not proud of. Alcohol was a factor in how I treated people who deserved far better, and to whom I’ve since apologised. But it was never an excuse, and I’ve never offered it as one. I’m writing this because I now understand how ordinary my story really is – it was just one that happened in the public eye.
Around eight million people in this country drink at levels that put their health at risk. Of those, seven million people drink above the CMOs low risk guidelines but not at the highest levels of harm – these people are known as ‘increasing risk drinkers’. Worryingly, six in ten of them also don’t think they have a problem, and almost two-thirds have never stopped to add up what they actually drink.
"Monitoring units was a real turning point for me: seeing in black and white how much I was consuming and realising the impact it was having. I used Drinkaware’s app to better understand my drinking."
The app tracks units and calories, and they have a ‘Drinking Check’ tool which is a simple way to gauge your level of risk. Before this I barely gave any thought to how many units or calories were in a drink.
The thought that my family’s heavy drinking norm might be harming me never seriously crossed my mind. I was still carrying on with my life, the job was still getting done and like many people, I was the last to recognise that I was putting myself at risk.
Westminster made drinking all too easy. There are bars at every turn, and a culture where wine is still handed out as you arrive at receptions in the daytime but soft drinks are hidden at the back of the room. Whenever Parliament was ‘in recess’ (ie not sitting) I always drank less and lost weight. I don’t blame the job, but the drinking culture remains problematic and no one accepts any responsibility for checking frequent drinkers are not becoming dependent.
This is the part I ask colleagues to think about. The people most at risk are very often the ones who will never walk into a treatment service, because they do not believe it’s meant for them. We talk, rightly, about moving the NHS from treatment to prevention, and a year on from the 10-Year Health Plan that ambition is the right one. But prevention that waits for people to put their hand up will continue to miss the majority of people who don’t think they need it. Alcohol deaths remain near record highs. Reaching people earlier is the only thing that would ever have helped someone like me, and apps providing home truths and raising self-awareness are a pathway to assist too.
"No single organisation can do this alone. It takes Government, the NHS, the drinks industry and local communities working together to meet people where they are rather than waiting for them to seek out a service. That’s why I point people towards Drinkaware myself."
For twenty years, it has got through to people like me, people who would never have voluntarily walked into an NHS clinic. The charity offers trusted, practical advice to support people to moderate their drinking, and a route to local help if they are drinking at the highest levels of risk. It’s paid for by the industry rather than the taxpayer, which strikes me as the right principle: those who profit from alcohol helping to fund the work of reducing its harm.
Let me be clear, though. This is not about lecturing anyone, and it is certainly not about banning the pub. I’ll go on championing the Bermondsey Beer Mile and the brilliant breweries and bars in Southwark. The point is not to stop people enjoying a drink. It’s about offering an honest, judgement-free invitation to look at where their drinking stands, and providing the evidence-backed tools to do something about it if a little help is required.
"The job for all of us is to reach people before a crisis does. I found out where I stood far too late."
But now, four years on, I’m sleeping better than I have in my adult life, I’m a couple of stone lighter, and I’ve got back both money and time to spend with my family. Most people won’t have a health scare, or a story in the papers, to make them stop and reflect. That’s exactly why we should make it easier to ask the question I dodged for years: ‘am I drinking too much?’ and to act on the answer. Alcohol Awareness Week is a great opportunity to do just that, and it has my full support.
Photo credit: Neil Coyle ©House of Commons