- Amy Deards, 44, was 14-years-old when she had her first sip of alcohol with her mum
- After experiencing a terrible heartbreak in 2008, she turned to booze for comfort
- Before she knew it, Amber was guzzling down four bottles of wine a day until she received the wake-up call of her life
Here she shares her story in her own words.
Taking a sip of my shandy, I felt like a proper grown-up.
Aged 14, I was at a get-together with Mum, then 35, and her mates.
Mum always thought that letting me have an odd drink with her would stop me from going and getting drunk in the park.
But by the time I was in my 20s, drinking was just a normal part of my life.
Working in retail, once the weekend came around, I’d be out on Friday and Saturday night, sharing bottles of wine with friends and ending the night at Macca’s.
‘This is so much fun,’ I’d giggle to my bestie, Nicole, then 24.
I didn’t think I had a problem with alcohol, but I’d always drink more than anyone else I was out with.
Life was good. By the age of 28, I was doing well at work and my boyfriend of six years had proposed.
But on New Year’s Eve 2008, just six months after getting engaged, he broke up with me out of the blue.
Devastated, I turned up at Mum’s place clutching bin bags brimming with all my belongings.
‘Oh love,’ Mum soothed.
Broken-hearted, I turned to booze to heal the pain, sinking a bottle of wine most nights.
After a few months I moved out of Mum’s, finding myself a new flat.
But I was still drinking heaps.
After a big night out, a customer at work the next day complained I smelled of alcohol and I was sacked.
I was gutted, but it didn’t deter me from drinking – wine was my escape from how low I was feeling.
Still, I got a new job and, managing 50 stores, it meant staying in hotels around the country.
‘Just six months after getting engaged, he broke up with me out of the blue.’
After work I’d be propping up the bar drinking a full bottle of wine to myself.
In 2015, I decided to move to Cambodia after someone I knew who’d travelled there said how much he loved it.
So I moved back in with Mum to save up for the adventure.
Still boozing every day, I’d hide empty wine bottles around the house.
Coming home from work one day, I went into the kitchen and saw Mum had lined up 15 empty wine bottles I’d hidden around the house – even those I’d stashed in my wardrobe.
Mum had no words, but her heartbreak and disappointment were written on her face.
‘I promise I’ll change,’ I said.
Instead, however, I started buying three three-litre casks of wine a week – chucking away the boxes and silver bags was easier than hiding bottles.
Moving to Cambodia in November 2016, I was free to drink what I wanted.
Aged 35 and teaching English to kids, I got an apartment with a Kiwi girl called Keeley.
‘I promise I’ll change.’
Each evening I’d sink bottles of cheap beer, and the next day I struggled to recall anything.
One night, I went to a casino with a group of men I’d just met and ended up back at their place for drinks. My phone had died, so when I strolled home at 2pm the next day Keeley was panicked.
‘Where have you been? I was worried,’ she said. ‘I even called your mum.’
‘I’m a grown woman,’ I shrugged. ‘You don’t need to worry.’
In August 2017, feeling homesick, I moved back home. Getting a job in a pub, I’d sip on wine from a water bottle.
Waking up one morning with a black eye, I had no idea how I’d got it.
Mum took me to hospital where an X-ray revealed I’d broken my right cheekbone.
Prescribed antibiotics, I remained sober for eight days, but then celebrated with a wine once I’d finished taking the course.
For a few months I cut back on booze, but before long I was guzzling more wine than ever – four bottles a day. I convinced myself I didn’t seem drunk in front of anyone, but it probably wasn’t the case.
Then, one day in December 2018, I decided to get behind the wheel of my car after work drinks.
My colleagues rang the police, for my safety and other people’s, but I made the two-minute drive home before they could catch me.
Waking up the next day, I was so consumed by my addiction that I thought my mates had done the wrong thing. It was like having blinkers on.
It was a wake-up call though, so I turned up to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. I sobbed listening to people’s stories, but, still in denial that I was an addict, I didn’t go back.
Getting a job back in retail, I started seeing a therapist. I kept drinking though, until one day in May 2019 when I was woken up in a back office at work, with no clue how I’d got there.
Panicking, I walked to my therapist’s office and broke down.
He called Mum, who picked me up.
‘You need to stop this, love,’ she said, dropping me off at my flat.
‘ I remained sober for eight days, but then celebrated with a wine once I’d finished taking the course.’
I had very dark thoughts, and phoned a suicide helpline. A kind volunteer listened to me as I cried.
I can’t do this anymore, I realised and went over to see Mum.
Admitting I needed help, I entered rehab four days later. The first week there, I endured painful withdrawals.
But I soon connected with the other people who understood exactly what I was going through.
Leaving four weeks later, I felt incredible.
In October 2020, wanting to share my story, I set up an Instagram page, @the.sober.shift, where I spoke candidly about my battle. The response was incredible.
You’ve helped me. I want to get sober, one woman wrote.
I even wrote a book, How Did I Get Here: Building A Life Beyond Alcohol.
I’ve now been sober for six years.
Life has totally changed.
I work in social work, sing in a choir and am a doting aunty to my beautiful seven-year-old nephew.
There’s so much more to living than alcohol.
