What I wish people had told me about my drinking.

Louis Theroux’s latest documentary ‘Drinking to Oblivion’ is moving viewers to tears with its heartbreaking insights into the hellish battle that is alcoholism. Several alcoholics were filmed, including one called Joe; a 32­ year ­old former university medical researcher who is shown walking out of hospital covered in blood to buy vodka after being told his alcoholism would kill him. Minutes earlier he had tearfully hugged Louis saying, “I don’t want to be a drunk – I’m dying as a person”.

It’s an insightful, raw, moving, utterly horrifying glimpse into a tortuous cycle that engulfs people who are drinking themselves to death.

How do you take care of your mind? Post continues after video…

When you’ve lost your connection with the world, you can’t simply flick a switch and stop drinking because the void is too terrifying. You don’t want to face life sober and let your mind start churning because your problems and pain then become real. You start to be aware that there is a distance between you and the rest of the world as you hurtle downhill. A snowball of destruction is gathering momentum and yet, you are aware that if you roll with it, it will plough through relationships, friendships and jobs.

I drank far too much for far too long. It was my way of coping through breakups and a personal life that was in absolute tatters even though my career was flying high. I lived in an area where addicts and alcoholics gathered on park benches and at one stage I yearned for the connection that they had.

Broken promises of partners haunted me, dark relationships had left open wounds that I numbed with wine and being stabbed in the back by people I thought I could trust pushed me down a bottle neck.

I was permanently on the brink of tears which threatened to give me away; fall out of my eyes and stream the truth down my face. I was broken.

What I wish someone had said to me is this, “Get help, now. Your doctor can put you in touch with compassionate people who want to help you. Walk into any local AA meeting or go to rehab and you’ll find the expert help you need. Whichever one of those you choose, don’t wait another day. It won’t get better it can only get worse.”

Alcohol isn’t therapy; you can’t drink your way out of problems. It will make everything worse. If drinking isn’t fun anymore and you are trying to drown out fears, loneliness and troubles, you are giving in to an addiction that doesn’t have a happy ending planned for you. It will climb into your head and masquerade as your best friend when you feel like you’re drifting away from the world around you.

I was lucky. Somewhere inside me a voice started screaming at me to get out. I resigned from a job that I loved, gave away my belongings and moved away so I could attempt to put my energy into turning my life around. I had to close my eyes, take a very deep breath and scream out loud in fear as I took one step sideways in the hope that I could find a different path away from the snowball.

I’ve found it.

The more I started to seek out people who had been trapped in that darkness and managed to turn their lives around, the more hope I felt. I found connection without judgement that gave me the tools to surrender to the fact that I can’t drink safely anymore. Not any, not ever.

It’s over a year since I had a drink and writing this still moves me to tears because I know there are other people out there who feel the overwhelming despair I felt. They might not be bloodied in emergency rooms like Joe; they are behind computer screens at work terrified of being found out.

They are travelling home in a cab after a night out looking forward to having more wine when they get home. They are cancelling plans with their friends because they’d rather drink alone at home. They are losing their connection and what they need is people to take their hand with compassion and lead them to safety. Now.

To anyone reading this who is scared, or is worried about a friend, I promise you there is another way to live.

What happened to Joe? It’s reported he’s been sober for six months and is successfully holding down a job. There is always hope.

For more from Corrine, follow her on Facebook here.