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Extract from Chapter 5

"Thought Bombs"

Kelly had just arrived at the supermarket near her home to pick up some things for dinner when she found herself in the alcohol aisle. There was nothing unusual in that, as this was where she frequently shopped for her favourite wine, a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. The power of habit had taken her feet to the wine section. However, on this occasion, she knew she shouldn’t be there.

After 10 years of regular drinking, Kelly was 8 days sober. Her partner, Martin, had raised concerns about the effects of drinking on her health. At first, she thought he was just being a bore and resented his interference.  But she Googled research on drinking and was shocked to discover she drank far more than recommended limits. Although Martin had a beer occasionally, he was more interested in fitness. He was a runner and a regular at the gym. She recognized he cared about her and was thinking of her best interests. She announced she would take a month off alcohol. She wasn’t sure what she would do afterwards. For now, she was just focused on the month. So far, she had found it surprisingly easy. The first day had been testing but since then she hadn’t thought about wine much. Until now.

She looked at the rows of wine bottles with their seductive labels and exotic names. She knew she should leave and turned towards the exit when she noticed a shelf of small, quarter-size bottles. They contained the equivalent of a large glass of wine. Normally, she would ignore these, as she would go straight for the full-sized bottles, but on this occasion, as she saw these, she heard a voice in her head say, “A little one would be okay. No one would know.” She thought about this. Martin was away at a two-day training course in London. He wouldn’t be back till tomorrow night. “You’ve been really good,” the voice continued. “You deserve a little reward.” Kelly watched as her hand reached out and picked up one of the small bottles. She took it home. An hour later, she was back at the supermarket, buying a full-sized bottle.

Kelly had been thought-bombed.

Danny had been invited to a neighbour’s midsummer garden party in the village where he lived. Around forty local people were enjoying the afternoon sunshine. They all knew each other. The atmosphere was relaxed. Danny was standing with a group of the local guys, chatting about sport. The others were drinking beer, but Danny had his usual drink, tomato juice with a dash of Worcester Sauce and ice. No one remarked on Danny’s choice of drink. He had been sober since before he had moved to the village and none of his neighbours had ever seen him drink alcohol.

Danny was used to being the one who didn’t drink and felt entirely comfortable with that. He had realized years earlier that he and alcohol were a bad combination. Sometimes he could drink with no consequences, but other times he would get drunk, and then his amiable personality would sour, and he would end up falling out with friends or family. Drinking for him was a gamble. After a particularly bad, alcohol-fuelled argument with his sister on one occasion, Danny had decided that enough was enough and he wouldn’t drink again. That was six years earlier, and in that time, he hadn’t touched alcohol. He had achieved that without getting help or going to support groups, he had simply made a choice. For him, drinking was a black and white thing: you either drank or you didn’t, and he needed to be one of those that didn’t.

Realizing his glass was empty, he went over to the bar which was being run by a caterer who had been employed for the day. “Same again?” he said. “Please,” said Danny, “a bit more Worcester Sauce this time.” He looked away while his drink was prepared. 

Danny knew something was wrong as soon as the drink touched his lips. Vodka. The caterer had made a mistake. He thought Danny was drinking a Bloody Mary. Danny went back to the bar to change his drink but had to wait as the caterer was busy with someone else. While he waited, a voice in his head suddenly said. “Don’t worry. One won’t hurt. You haven’t had a drink in years, it’s not like you have a problem with alcohol. It’ll be fine.” Danny drank the drink. 

Each time he went back to the bar, the caterer said, “Same again?” Danny accepted and had another vodka and tomato juice. Two hours later Danny was stumbling around drunk, much to the amazement of the people of the village who had never expected to see him like that.

Danny had been thought-bombed.

Thought-bombs are very plausible, reassuring lies that pop into your head out of nowhere. They can happen any time, even to someone long-term sober like Danny, but when you have recently stopped drinking, you can expect to be thought-bombed frequently. Common thought-bombs include:

• Just one won’t hurt.
• You can stop again tomorrow.
• You deserve it.
• No one will know.
• You can quit any time you like.
• It’s not fair that you can’t drink.
• The doctor is talking rubbish.
• You’re funnier after a drink.
• This isn’t a good time to stop.
• If you have one, you’ll feel better.
• They’ll think you’re odd if you don’t drink.
• You can switch to fruit juice later.
• A drink will calm you down.
• It’ll be okay if you stick to beer.
• You don’t have a problem, so why worry?
• You can stop next year.
• Better to put off quitting until after the holiday.
• Everyone else drinks so why not you?
• Those health reports are fake news.
• You’re not as bad as some people.

Thought-bombs try to persuade you that you can drink without consequences, that it’s safe. But as Kelly and Danny found out, that’s not true. 

Guilt troubled Kelly that night. She had avoided Martin’s calls in the evening because she knew he would tell from her voice that she had been drinking. She was awake most of the night wondering whether to tell him the next day. She hadn’t even enjoyed the wine. It had robbed her of her peace of mind. She had gone from the nurturing and comforting world of sobriety to the stressful world of drinking. 

When he sobered up, Danny was appalled by his drinking session at the garden party. He worried that he had destroyed his social standing in the eyes of the village. He was afraid that he could not stay sober and that alcohol would take over his life, as it had done in the past. Like Kelly, he had lost his peace of mind to alcohol. He wanted to be back in the comfort and ease of sobriety but had doubts over whether he could pick up the pieces. This is typical of the damage done when a thought-bomb explodes in your life.

So how do we diffuse thought-bombs and prevent them from exploding?

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