My husband’s drinking problem hit in lockdown
The stress of the pandemic has revealed the true extent of many executives’ hidden alcohol addictions, finds Miranda Levy
For 25 years, brand consultant Sarah* has been married to a man she describes as “Jekyll and Hyde”. “I had pretty much emotionally checked out of our marriage before lockdown,” she says, of her husband David*. “But the Covid period made me realise I don’t actually like this person at all. Not only has his drinking increased, but he hasn’t shown the slightest inclination to stop.”
The mood swings and the purplefaced, spittle-flecked rages were bad enough before March this year, particularly after the three bottles of wine that David, 57, the CEO of a marketing company, would put away every Saturday and Sunday. But lockdown saw his drinking habits – and their relationship – deteriorate, seemingly beyond repair.
David, Sarah and their 15-year-old twins live in a five-bedroom house in the Home Counties (their 26-year-old daughter has left home). As comfortable middle-class professionals, there are undeniably others far worse off. But hidden addiction is just as much a problem for those behind the front doors of leafy villages as for those in less privileged positions – and the conditions created by Covid-19 have only exacerbated the problem.
Marta Ra, the CEO of Paracelsus Recovery (billed as “the world’s most exclusive addiction and mental heath clinic”), says: “Lockdown has emphasised the mental health struggles of our clients, be it addiction, loneliness, mental wellbeing or stress. Being stuck in one place for such an extended period of time with the same group of people… is challenging for anyone, regardless of your job or lifestyle.” Paracelsus has seen a fivefold increase in calls and referrals from CEOS towards the end of lockdown.
With clinics in Zurich and Harley Street, a £65,000-a-week charge – Middle Eastern and Russian clients often bring their entourages – and a 15-to-one staff ratio, Paracelsus clearly caters to the élite UNHW (Ultra Net High Worth) clients and their families. But what about the regular, “well-off ” middle classes? According to Ra, the problems are the same. In normal times, she says, the affluent use their income to carve out lives away from their families, via expensive pursuits such as skiing and other hobbies, but mainly by virtue of their work.
“Imagine you are a top executive at Canary Wharf,” she says. “You are ‘someone’ – you have your team, and your corporate hierarchy, where you are perched at the top. Suddenly, you are home, and you have to change nappies or make lunch for two screaming toddlers. You’ve lost your status and identity, and need constant validation, which may not be forthcoming.”
Nicky Walton-flynn, an addictions psychologist, agrees: “Executives in lockdown are ‘stuck with themselves’. They can’t disguise their alcoholism through the usual methods of drinks after work, client lunches and days at the cricket.” And while Walton-flynn’s practice treats various addictions – largely cocaine dependency – she has noticed that almost all new enquiries concern problems with alcohol, chiefly because people can’t get out to see their dealers. “Covid has created a perfect environment for alcoholism, which is a progressive disease,” she says.
When Sarah met David through work in her late 20s, they were both “party drinkers. But for the past decade his drinking has increased,” she says. “Before lockdown, he was having at least a bottle a night, as well as the six on weekends. Of course, given that he worked in an office, I have no idea how much he really drank. When lockdown began, we had a smooth couple of weeks, before he started drinking at lunchtime and now, sometimes, earlier.”
The problem, says Sarah, is that David “is not a nice drunk. He is bullying and vicious. Nothing is good enough when he’s been drinking. Say one of the kids has dropped some food in the kitchen. He will round on them: ‘You’re f------ useless,’ or, to me: ‘You’re the worst wife in the world.’ And once the safety catch is off, that’s it for the rest of the day.”
Along with the drunken anger comes deviousness. “During coronavirus, David has only left the house to go for walks so he can drink in the park, or go to the supermarket,” she says. “He doesn’t think I hear the clunking of his bags when he gets back. I’m sure he hides more wine in the car. But he is deceitful: he buys the same brand of pinot grigio so he can get away with replacing the bottle in the fridge without anyone noticing – he thinks.”
“Alcoholics are very clever, but behind the cleverness lurks desperation,” notes Walton-flynn.
Ra sympathises with Sarah’s situation. “We are seeing three types of client at the moment,” she says. “First there are the wives reaching out when their partner’s drinking was already excessive, and now they are becoming aggressive. Then there are the executives who only drank socially – say, a glass of wine with dinner. Now they don’t have a routine and a purpose, they steadily drink more until they realise they have a problem, and contact us.” A third category are successful women, many of whom live alone, turning to alcohol to help the struggle with loneliness.
But, yes, most of the Covid-aholics are men: they comprise two thirds of referrals to Paracelsus, says Ra. Walton-flynn reports that she used to have “about two or three enquiries a week, but now we have around seven. All have been male.” The reason, she hazards, is that the top echelons of banking, law and insurance are still mostly male-dominated.
The reasons behind addiction and alcoholism are many and complicated, she says. They include trauma, growing up with an alcoholic parent or even stress around “the meaning of life – why am I chasing all this money?” Undiagnosed depression also plays a part, and this is what Sarah believes is happening to David.
“The issue is that he refuses to seek any help,” she says. “When he is sober, he is mortified by his behaviour. He admits he has a problem, but won’t accept what this means. And he doesn’t seem to want to give up drinking: in fact, he rather likes it.”
Now the world is “going back”, do the experts think the situation will improve for the UNHW addicts? Ra thinks not. “The reopening of pubs and restaurants can only increase the reliance on, and temptation of, alcohol at what remains a very difficult and uncertain time.”
Not to mention that, though lockdown is easing, the financial stresses for many remain – and for some, will only get worse.
“Even if a super-rich executive still has millions left in the bank, a 50 per cent loss of his liquid net worth is a loss,” Ra says. “It’s about comparison with your peers. If you used to take your private jet to drink coffee in Milan, and now you can’t, you feel diminished.”
If it’s hard for the rest of us to feel much sympathy, Ra points out that such concerns can contribute to substance abuse and family breakdown.
The picture is not all gloom, however. Walton-flynn has noticed a resilience among her recovering clients. “I have people who had successful treatment before lockdown, on the floor because they had lost their wives and kids and were about to lose their jobs,” she says. “They say they are so glad they’re not drinking now. Help is out there – people can be treated, and can recover.
Sadly, it seems as if the unlocking has come too late for Sarah, David and their family – she is about to instruct a divorce solicitor, “unless he performs the biggest U-turn in history”.
However, there is steel in her voice. “David always used to say: ‘It’s always about the drink, that’s your problem’,” she says. “But I’ve found the strength to say: “No, it’s your problem. Why do the kids and I have to put up with this?’ I am looking forward to a new, happy, independent life. I can’t wait for the black cloud to lift.”
‘Execs can’t disguise their drinking through client lunches and days at the cricket’
*Some names have been changed