As an alcoholic, all you'll really care about is the bottle. Photo / 123RF
As an alcoholic, all you'll really care about is the bottle. Photo / 123RF
OPINION
I love my son Marcus with my entire being, but there was a time when alcohol drove a divide between us. As an alcoholic, all you really care about is that bottle, and drinking was far more important to me than being a good dad.
Booze was always in my life. I grew up in an era when rules around alcohol were more relaxed. As young as 13, my brothers would be buying me pints in the pub. Then in my early 20s, I worked in the corporate world, where it was a beer at 5pm, wine with dinner, a load more spirits and then shots somewhere at 3am.
Things took a turn for the worse about seven years ago, when I started having serious eye problems. I went for every test you can imagine at every top clinic in the country, but no one to this day has been able to find the cause. At one point I couldn’t read my emails. Fortunately, the doctors managed to reverse the decline in my right eye, but I’ve now lost 90 per cent of the sight in my left. These days I still walk into things, I can’t always see people and I’m lost in the dark. It has been a huge adjustment, and when it first happened I couldn’t cope.
Clapp's alcohol intake went through the roof. Photo / 123RF
But rather than talk about it and be honest about feeling terrified, I made jokes and pretended everything was fine. Behind closed doors, I buried myself in the bottle and my alcohol intake went through the roof.
About five years ago, when Marcus was 14, I was really struggling. I’d previously split up from Marcus’ mum but we’d always co-parented, and my relationship with Marcus had been extremely close. Before my drinking problem kicked in, I was the kind of dad who rang him every day; we went regularly to rugby together, and we loved being in each other’s company.
But when my booze intake accelerated, I went from drinking bottles of wine and beer at night to necking more than a few in the afternoon. By the end of 2020, the first thing I’d think about waking up was having a drink. By that point I was on vodka because it got me drunk more quickly.
Because I was running my own legal business, even though I was out of it much of the time, I could just about keep my professional life together. But, later, when I eventually hit my rock-bottom, I had to be honest with my management team and ask for their help. That was tough: being upfront about how bad things had become.
I was always very clever at hiding my addiction. I’d sneak off to have a glug when no one was looking, and because I had a high tolerance, I could still be around Marcus and function. Even so, Marcus was no fool and he picked up that I wasn’t being the dad he’d known and loved. It’s hard to admit, but he did find me asleep in bed once, surrounded by empty bottles. Not my proudest moment.
Things progressively got worse and I started letting him down. I forgot to pick him up, didn’t show face at the rugby and was distracted most of the time by the thought of the next drink. Marcus had always been my main priority, but now it was alcohol.
Though he agreed to go to rehab, he didn't believe he had a problem. Photo / 123RF
One day his mum intervened and told me I had to seek professional help. Although I agreed to go to rehab, crazy though it sounds, I didn’t really believe I had a problem. When I came out, I immediately started drinking again. This became the cycle - in total, I’ve been to rehab five times.
And so it went on. I was drunk at all hours of the day. Marcus stopped seeing me, and the sadness I felt around that pushed me even further towards the bottle. We were both stuck in our own bubbles of pain. I obliterated myself with drink; Marcus cut himself off from his feelings. He never blew up or rebelled, but he did shut down. We’ve talked about it since, and he realises it was his way of managing how overwhelming it all was. We both know now that it’s better to let those tough emotions out in the open and try to deal with them.
But back then, the more I drank, the more I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I got to the stage where I was in a pit of drunken misery and it seemed to make no difference, in my mind, whether I lived or died.
Then one morning in September 2022, a kind of miracle happened. I was sitting with Marcus in the garden at my parents’ house, and he turned to me and said: “Dad, you are 42 years old and you still need your mum and dad. I am 17 years old and I need you.”
I was at such a low point in my life - feeling lost and alone doesn’t begin to describe it - but those words hit me like a tonne of bricks. It was at that moment I realised I did have a purpose in my life - I had to be a decent father to my son again. I went back into rehab, and it was no picnic. It took commitment and hard work. But the discussion groups opened up a whole new way of looking at life, and the connections I made showed me that there were plenty of other people going through similar experiences. I felt completely supported and understood by the staff and the other patients. No matter how hard it was at the time, I haven’t looked back.
Be The Spirit offers alcohol-free events for those who want to socialise but, for whatever reason, don’t want to drink. Photo / 123RF
My sober life is amazing. I feel and look 10 years younger, I can confront my feelings without being terrified, I communicate honestly and I give myself a break. I realise I am human, with human faults, and can only do my best. Then last year I set up Claritee Group, a business that runs Be The Spirit, alcohol-free events for those who want to socialise but for whatever reason - sobriety, pregnancy, heath - don’t want to drink. It’s been a great success.
My relationship with Marcus is closer than it’s ever been. We have spent many hours discussing what happened, and I have told him I am deeply sorry for what I put him through. I hurt him badly. It did take time to rebuild the trust, and for the first six months of my sobriety, he was worried I’d relapse. It’s important he understands that communication between us broke down when I was at my worst because of my obsession with booze. It wasn’t his fault. And thankfully, we can talk about everything and anything now.
There have been a lot of tears shed, but that’s healthy. Those emotions need to come out and be shared. And these days, there is loads of laughter too. Marcus is a beautiful soul; respectful, polite and gentle. He’s studying business and economics at Leeds Uni, and while he has fun, he’s not a big drinker. We won’t actually be together for Father’s Day because he’s travelling in Thailand, but we’ll FaceTime and I suspect we’ll share the love. Only yesterday he sent me a message saying he is so proud of me.
Marcus has seen me at my rock-bottom, and it’s been one hell of a rollercoaster ride. Life was a mess and I messed up, but my son has forgiven me. He is my reason for getting going again. And right now, onwards feels good.
