Help at hand to avoid hangover
FORGET Jingle Bells, the festive sounds of corks popping and wine glasses clinking are much more common at this time of year.
And while more of us than ever are employing the help of professionals when it comes to our health, the idea of seeking advice from a “drinktician” – a drinking coach who can help us develop sensible drinking habits – is more unusual.
Enter Shahroo Izadi, an addictions specialist who has trained prisoners and politicians alike in how to moderate their boozing. Her approach doesn’t focus on abstinence or how many units you’re knocking back, but instead on developing an awareness of why we drink in the way we do.
“Being more mindful of our drinking can help us to identify and diversify the strategies we employ to cope with situations such as stress, boredom or social pressure,” she says.
“This is not an exercise in hating alcohol. It’s simply an experiment to see what it is doing for you and explore what else can perform that function.”
So is there a way to hold back the hangover? Three writers set out to find if they could change the drinking habits of a lifetime.
Bryony Gordon, 36:
“Alcohol is not your enemy!” The first words that Shahroo says to me come as something of a shock.
Because ever since I started drinking, age 15, I have seen alcohol as just that. In my mind, it’s the bitchy queen bee at school who pretends to be your friend, only to reveal at the last minute that in actual fact she’s playing a trick on you.
It’s the crummy ex-boyfriend who I’m always trying to impress, even though he behaves like a jerk to me. Bottom line is: alcohol has not been good to me over the years. Or maybe I have not been good to it. All I know is that I am not very good at drinking, and would rather have none than one.
I’ve been to Alcoholics Anonymous a couple of times. I’ve never actually said that to anyone out loud, other than my husband and now, Shahroo. “You are in control of your alcohol intake,” she explains. It’s such a radical idea to me that I almost fall off my chair.
My first test is a Christmas reception full of very important people who I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of. Shahroo tells me I’m only allowed half a bottle of wine during it, which is tricky when there are waiters walking round topping up glasses. But I do it. I put my hand over my glass (I’ve never done that before) and request water. I leave . . . sober.
However, I’m writing this with a cracking hangover – I went out last night without eating and didn’t drink at all mindfully, as ordered by Shahroo. I am a toxic mix of anxiety and alcohol. I just hope that this time I have learnt my lesson: treat alcohol with respect, and it will return the favour.
Shahroo says: “Even when we’re not discussing physical dependency, ‘relapse’ is an important part of the process of identifying our triggers. Try to reframe ‘high risk’ events as an opportunity to experiment with new drinking habits.”
Cristina Criddle, 23
Prior to my consultation, some friends and I had begun delegating dishes for our Christmas dinner. My job? Booze-runner. When I completed my questionnaire, it became increasingly obvious that alcohol exists in every aspect of my life, except work. “My relationships could be affected if I changed my drinking habits as drinking is a part of most social situations I engage in,” I wrote.
My main concern is turning to alcohol when stressed or upset – something I hadn’t admitted before my consultation.
Shahroo’s first rule was easy: eat something before drinking. The night after my consultation, I was four cocktails down before I realised I hadn’t eaten. The bar had stopped serving hot food, so a packet of crisps became supper. Surprisingly, it worked.
My next target was overcoming alcohol as a crutch: reserve one teetotal day a week, find an enjoyable sober activity, and delay drinking for 20 minutes. That Friday, I invested in a set of colouring books and, after 20 minutes, I felt better. For the first Saturday in months, I woke up bright-eyed and ready for action.
I like the idea of scheduling in teetotal days or making plans for later in the week – it’s a commitment. Now that I have a sober outlet, I can reserve cracking open the merlot for when I’m spending the evening with friends – not just when I’m stressed.
Nick Curtis, 50
At 50, I have realised that my problem with alcohol is that I have an on/off switch, not a dial. Moderation is impossible: it’s all or nothing. Twice in the past few years I drastically altered my drinking and felt better (and lighter) for it. But my work involves a lot of evenings out and I don’t want to give it up: equally, I don’t want the now-crucifying hangovers and brutal self-loathing of the morning after.
Shahroo suggested that I should “drink in a way I could be proud of” – keeping tabs on how much I consume, and the excuses I made to do it.
The night before our consultation I had my first teetotal night in ages, largely because of a crippling hangover. The night after, at home with my wife, I got to 9pm on water, then cracked and had two glasses of wine. The night after that, I drank a glass of wine in the interval of a play, and later had a nightcap. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself.
But then came Thursday and the meeting of my book club. Three hours later, I lurched towards my transport with more than a bottle of red wine inside me. That gave me a hangover that I hit with a bottle on Friday night. On Saturday, I went to a party and vowed not to drink. You can imagine how well that went. I know that with more effort I could now do better. Shahroo says: “Rather than vowing not to drink at all, we could vow to spend an evening being kind to ourselves and feeling alert. This is more likely to make us feel we can withstand the short-term discomfort of creating new drinking habits.” — The Daily Telegraph