I’m sorry Adrian, but I would say you are an alcoholic
Relaxed and affable with an easy ‘ Brummie’ charm, adrian Chiles is one of our most high-profile TV and radio presenters — so his admission this week that his life is ‘built’ around alcohol understandably made headlines.
during one of his regular boozy sessions, he’d consumed four pints of Guinness, four bottles of beer, a glass of champagne and five glasses of wine. His intake after being sacked from ITV’s daybreak in 2011 was the equivalent of six pints of Guinness a day.
In his tell- all interview with Radio Times to promote a BBC2 documentary, drinkers like Me (in which he promises to cut down), I was struck by one thing in particular: that while he accepted he was ‘undoubtedly dependent on alcohol’, the word ‘alcoholic’ is outdated, he said — implying, presumably, that he did not see himself as one.
Well, I’m sorry, adrian, but from what I’ve read, you are. and you’re
A good week for romantics, as science proves that love at first sight really does exist. Within seconds of us spotting someone we find very attractive, blood rushes to key parts of the brain associated with euphoria. Well, sorry, I’m not convinced. That’s lust at first sight, not love! Attraction is vital, of course, but true love develops as you get to know the person — including all their faults and foibles — and STILL want to spend time with them.
not alone in accepting you have a problem while perhaps rejecting the label of alcoholic.
We think of alcoholics as chaotic individuals in a state of perpetual inebriation. The down-and- outs in the park, or the person who needs a stiff drink before breakfast to stop their hands shaking.
Well, not always. Over the many years ( and I am not now commenting on Chiles personally) I’ve worked in drug and alcohol services and seen countless professionals, men and women, who appear to have it all — yet every night they go home and essentially drug themselves up with booze.
They are high- functioning alcoholics, rarely seen to be drunk in any loutish way. But those glasses of wine over lunch, the pint in the pub after work, the G&T when they get home and then a glass or two of whatever is already open — well, they’ve become a habit, and clocking up 100 units a week, like Chiles admitted (the recommended limit is 14), is far from unusual.
I’ve counselled many such people, all of whom tell me the same thing: ‘Yes, I know I drink too much, doctor, but no way am I an alcoholic.’
Chiles, like many of those I see in clinic, hasn’t got to the stage where he’s physically dependent — when the body is reliant on alcohol and you get the shakes, or suffer seizures, if you don’t drink. But this is just one aspect of alcoholism. It is the psychological dependency that so often proves harder to treat than the physical addiction — the inability to get through the day or to function in any social environment without a drink in your hand.
In recent years, some doctors and psychologists have eschewed the word ‘alcoholic’ in favour of euphemistic terms such as ‘ problem drinker’ or ‘ alcohol dependent’, which is how Chiles describes himself.
This isn’t helpful. Calling someone an alcoholic is harsh, but it helps to hammer home the reality and can be the wake-up call they need to change behaviour.
Chronic heavy drinking is the cause of many health problems, from liver disease and brain damage to cancer. It destroys careers and devastates families — and it shortens lives.
That’s a message that shouldn’t be sugar-coated.