OPINION
This weekend, our emergency departments were full of people who were sick or injured as a result of alcohol.
Our police and first responders, our unofficial frontline mental health workforce, were stretched beyond their limits from attending hundreds of callouts because of intoxicated people harming themselves and others.
The price we pay for alcohol harm is huge, both in terms of loss of life and the drain on our public resources, which amounts to millions of health dollars every year. Then there’s the immeasurable cost to wellbeing for the alcoholic, their family, friends and employers.
And let’s not forget that the domestic violence caused by alcohol harm has a ripple effect that lasts for lifetimes and seeps through generations.
But still, drinking hazardously is normalised in New Zealand. The consequences – hangovers, absenteeism and blackouts – are laughed off as part of the deal of using alcohol.
We pat each other on the back, wearing our consequences as a badge of honour. Embarrassing moments when we laugh too loudly, say and do the wrong things and fall down are accepted as a rite of passage. The lines we draw around our drinking are blurry and wide. Stigmatising alcoholics hurts us all.
Yet when people with a public profile “can’t handle their alcohol” – Tory Whanau and Kiri Allan come to mind – society’s judgment is vicious.
We squirm with discomfort when they make fools of themselves in public, when they climb behind the wheel of a car or get into altercations.
We hold them to a higher standard and our tolerance for a brazen booze problem – especially if they’re women – is practically nil. We kick them to the kerb, cast them out as we raise our glasses and carry on drinking.
Allan effectively lost her career over her indiscretions with alcohol. She did the “right thing” by resigning with her tail between her legs, suitably shame-faced, shouldering responsibility for her transgressions. If she hadn’t done so, she would probably have been forced to.
Whanau is valiantly moving forward with admitting she has an alcohol problem and seeking help without quitting her job, despite the baying cries for her head. She needs all the luck in the world, and I sincerely wish her that.
If either of these women had to take time off work for an acceptable illness, there wouldn’t be such an outcry. Allan did that with a cancer diagnosis and she was treated like a hero.
But when it comes to alcoholism, the “pull your socks up” brigade acts as if an inability to control alcohol is a moral issue or a character weakness. Addiction – or substance use disorder, as it is clinically known – is neither of those things. It is defined as a mental health disorder in the DSM-5, the bible of psychiatry.
As we continue to shun the uncomfortable truth that, as a nation, we have a booze problem and can’t stand having a mirror held up to us, alcohol harm will continue to rise. People will seek help only in secret, ashamed, cast out and unable to be honest and open about a problem that is harming them and everyone around them.
That is sad for us all, as alcoholism loses a lot of its power when it’s hung out to dry in the sunlight.
If we could only make it easier for people to get help – whether they’re leaders or the average person just struggling at home – we would all be a lot better off.
Elaine Atkinson is the founder of Hawke’s Bay wellness and rehabilitation centre Ocean Hills.