A bottle of wine down, and another already opened, I’d feel a desperate urge to call my boyfriend.
It may have been 11pm, but it seemed the perfect moment to sound off about my unreasonable boss, talk about our ‘plans for the future’, or to implore him to join me when after-work drinks had turned into a fully fledged night out.
Yet though he was so quick to respond to texts or calls during the day, without fail his phone would ring until it went to voicemail. Despite my pleading messages for him to call me back, he never would, until the following day.
It was the same story with my friends, even family members.
Then, I didn’t understand it. Now, decades later and after seven years sober, I know that friends and family refusing to take your calls after a certain time of night – well aware that your tongue and boundaries will be blurred by alcohol – is a classic sign that you have a drinking problem.
And back then, I certainly did.
Not that I recognised it; with a six-figure City job, I convinced myself that because I binged only on ‘good wine’ and cocktails there was nothing to worry about.
The amount I drank varied, from a couple of glasses on a quiet night to so many dirty martinis I’d lose count and be unable to remember what I’d done, said or how I’d got home.
Sandra Parker didn’t understand why friends and family wouldn’t pick up her calls at night, but has since realised there was a reason
These would also be times that I’d drunk-dial my nearest and dearest who, having had a quiet evening and an early night, were in no mood for my drunken rambling.
It wasn’t until I was 48 that I finally realised I had a serious alcohol dependency — what doctors would call alcohol use disorder. While, like the majority of problem drinkers, I wasn’t physically addicted, alcohol had become an emotional crutch that I relied on to manage work stress and anxiety, the irony being that it only made both those things worse.
Although my then boyfriend never spelt out why he had started ignoring my evening calls – simply telling me he didn’t like talking to me late at night – I still cringe at the memory. Unsurprisingly, within a few months of this our relationship ended.
Neither he, nor my friends, ever expressed concern about my drinking. Perhaps, like I did, they didn’t think a professional, middle-class woman like me could have a serious problem. Or maybe they were just being polite; after all, it’s a tricky thing to accuse someone of having a drinking problem.
Yet since I got sober, and began my sober coaching company Just The Tonic Coaching, I’ve heard countless similar tales from people whose loved ones have been avoiding their nocturnal calls for years.
What many problem drinkers don’t realise is that after a few glasses we become different people, repeating ourselves, getting overly emotional and even combative – not to mention holding our chosen victim hostage for hours at a time.
If those we’re hoping to target with our monologues don’t pick up, we’ll call back multiple times and leave rambling voice messages.
Worse still, the following day we’re unlikely to recall a word we’ve said.
When one of my clients Mary, a divorcee in her 60s, first started working with me she was devastated that her 35-year-old son had told her to stop calling him after 7pm.
She was drinking a couple of bottles of wine most nights, and he hated the way this made her overly-emotional, raking over the poor relationship she’d had with his father, and getting irate when he wouldn’t join in criticising his dad.
At the time Mary thought her son was being harsh but, as she started drinking less, she was able to recognise how alcohol affected her – and that her son, a father to two little boys, had neither the time nor the energy to listen to her in her cups.
Now several months sober, Mary is beginning to rebuild her relationship with her son and grandchildren. These days, they even FaceTime her some evenings.
What many problem drinkers don’t realise is that after a few glasses we become different people, repeating ourselves, getting overly emotional and even combative, writes Sandra
As in my case, it’s often our romantic partners who bear the brunt of slurred, circular conversations and irrational outbursts.
In fact, one of my clients, Gerard, decided to tackle his drinking after his new girlfriend refused to answer his calls on Sundays, knowing he’d be incoherent after spending hours in the pub with his cricketing friends.
She was honest about her reason for not picking up, but others may not be.
So if you’re reading this and concerned about your own drinking – and dialling – habits, ask yourself these questions:
- Do people seem less available to talk to you in the evenings?
- Has anyone ever mentioned that you called or messaged them, but you have no memory of it?
- Do you feel anxious about checking your phone the morning after drinking, having forgotten who you called or what you wrote in messages?
- Do your adult children seem to call you at specific times of day and avoid talking at other times?
If any of this is ringing bells, it’s an idea to give serious thought to your intake.
Just because you don’t fit the stereotype of a park bench drunk, doesn’t mean that alcohol hasn’t become a negative influence on your life. And these subtle signs can prove an early warning of a serious problem.
The good news is it’s unlikely your loved ones are screening your calls after dark because they don’t care about you – and once you regain control over your drinking these relationships can heal remarkably quickly.
Your phone will once again become a tool for connection – rather than a source of morning-after misery.
- Sandra Parker is founder of Just The Tonic Coaching (justthetoniccoaching.com) specialising in helping high-achieving professionals gain control over alcohol. Names have been changed
- As told to Helen Carroll
