I was drinking three bottles of wine a day and totally losing control. Here's how I got my life back

On 6 November 2024, I made a life-saving decision. I checked into rehab for alcohol addiction. It was the day before my son Finn’s 17th birthday. He hugged me tightly that morning and whispered, “This is the best birthday present you could ever give me.” I wept. I was utterly broken, physically, emotionally and spiritually.

By then, I was drinking morning, noon and night. Three bottles of wine a day, vodka hidden in diet coke bottles. My nerves were shot, my mobility was failing, I was vomiting daily and having panic attacks. I could barely leave my flat. Standing in the Priory waiting room, trembling and terrified, I asked myself: “How did it come to this?”.

I’d always enjoyed a drink. Growing up in the ‘ladette’ culture of the 80s and 90s, booze was part of the lifestyle. I worked in Manchester’s club scene, dancing at the Hacienda and promoting Paradise Factory. The party girl image masked a growing dependence.

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In 2002, I met Andy through online dating. He was witty, deep and magnetic. We fell head over heels and got married on a Jamaican beach. We built a business together, Don’t Panic Events, and eventually, with some help, welcomed our son Finn. Life felt complete.

In 2017, everything changed. Andy began experiencing chest pains. After several visits and being misdiagnosed with stress, an ECG finally revealed he was having a heart attack. He was rushed into surgery and had three stents fitted.

A few days later, after returning home, Andy suffered a second, far worse heart attack. I screamed and performed CPR for 40 minutes while waiting for the ambulance. When they took over, I went straight to the wine rack and downed a bottle of red wine in three minutes.

Andy was rushed into ICU and placed into an induced coma. During the two-week bedside vigil, overwhelmed by fear and grief, I was drinking vodka hidden inside a diet coke bottle to cope.

Two weeks later, doctors told me the words no one wants to hear: “I’m sorry, Mrs Wake, your story does not have a happy ending.” Andy had suffered catastrophic brain damage. He didn’t recognise me, or even himself. For three years, I lived in limbo, grieving the man who was still alive. I couldn’t bring myself to let Finn, then only nine, see his dad in that condition.

I coped alone, curled up on the sofa, Adele on repeat, wine in hand. And when Covid hit, it broke what was left of me. Andy died in April 2020. Eight people attended his funeral. I crumbled under the weight of grief and loneliness.

I tried to carry on, solo parenting, running an events company and keeping up appearances. I was high-functioning but hiding a spiralling alcohol addiction. Friends checked in, dropped off food. My GP prescribed antidepressants. But I drank anyway.

Eventually, I wanted to feel hope again. I decided to try dating. But the landscape had changed. Apps, ghosting, inappropriate messages. I was drinking more than ever, making poor choices, and struggling to form connections. After one painful date, a man asked me, “Are you still grieving?”

That question jolted something in me. I wanted to meet someone who understood, someone who’d lived through deep loss. I searched for a dating app for widows. Nothing. So I created one. Chapter2Dating.app launched in November 2023. It gave me purpose, a reason to get up. If I could help others find joy, maybe I could find it too.

But behind the scenes, I was unravelling. I was still drinking heavily, hiding it from partners, from friends, from myself. I ended up in the hospital twice, yet still didn’t stop. I told myself I was coping. I wasn’t.

Rehab saved my life. In 28 days, I began to rebuild myself, through counselling, medication and the support of peers. The work really started when I came home. I faced my first sober Christmas with quiet determination. Since then, I’ve stayed sober, one day at a time.

During recovery, I explored different tools, mindfulness, podcasts, books and support networks. I was introduced to AA and am grateful for the millions of lives it has helped. But I wanted to go further. I needed a version of recovery that allowed me to move forward positively, to celebrate sobriety rather than constantly confront my past.

That’s how SoberAF.club was born. A free, peer-led community offering support, events and connection for anyone exploring sobriety. Whether you’re sober-curious or in long-term alcohol recovery, it’s a place of understanding, not shame.

Sobriety has given me my life back. I go to gigs, festivals, the theatre. I wake up without guilt or regret. And I’ve built something that helps others do the same. More than 2,000 people have joined our sober dating app SoberLove, and SoberAF is growing fast.

I once thought losing Andy was the end of my story. It turns out, it was the start of a new chapter, one filled with purpose, clarity and hope.

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