The price of silence, alcoholism, and hitting rock bottom
By Piers Scrimshaw-Wright
My early childhood, in the 1970s, was perfect to the outside observer – a beautiful home in the Garden of England, Kent – but on the inside I was in turmoil.
From an early age, I was exposed to alcohol and encountered trauma, as the child of an alcoholic mother. My mother’s alcoholism meant she was not terribly emotionally present and she could be a risk to my welfare.
I also had to care for her at times. Consequently, I was packed-off to boarding school aged six and three quarters. At one level this was a blessing, and certainly a privileged existence, but I recall having an overwhelming sense of abandonment at the time.
It meant, I did not develop emotionally in my early years – hardly at all in fact – and, as I look back, this was only ever going to ‘bite’ me at a later date, and it certainly did so.
Living behind emotional silence
I was excellent at suppressing my emotions, and not expressing them, and over time had little propensity to even recognise emotions. Worse still, I thought having any kind of emotion, or feeling, was a bad thing. It is quite the opposite, certainly if channelled and harnessed positively.
It also meant I ‘normalised’ abnormal behaviours. Historically, I thought to just carry on regardless was both the ‘right thing to do’ and my attempt to ‘do the right thing’. How wrong I was.
I could become emotionally absent and sometimes aloof even. This meant I was at risk of being misunderstood. I started most relationships from a position of mis-trust, for fear of getting hurt; certainly in my private life. These ‘pains of silence’ would grow louder with age.
I had to emotionally grow-up and ‘break the silence’ to take on life properly. Notwithstanding my inherent deficiencies, I forged a successful career in business. I put this down to making sound rational decisions based on empirical data and predictability to outcome, rather than being based on emotions. Every cloud has a silver lining I guess.
When silence transformed into alcoholism
In my private life, I was often in a ‘state of silence’, and I know now this is not a ‘state of peace’. It also meant I disconnected from my own needs, often putting the needs of others before my own.
It gave me a certain self-sufficiency for sure, which I thought was laudable, but most things in life are best addressed when shared. I never wanted to ask for help and it nearly cost me my own life.
Unable to cope, I somewhat inevitably slipped into my own grips of severe alcoholism aged 50, in 2021. I found sobriety in 2024 and I am recovering well having addressed my emotional shortcomings. I had an epiphany in April 2024 – I decided to write my life story from birth.
Writing my way back to life
Despite my first-class education, I was poorly read (still am), suffer from dyslexia and my command of the English language is best described as ‘ordinary’. But, with sobriety I have discovered a new skill – telling a story and telling it well.
My writing became my now published autobiography, Rock Bottom – www.rockbottom.info.
It became my purpose. My Ikigai – a Japanese ethos for brining ‘meaning’ to your life based on four venerable pillars. My biography is in many ways the keystone of my sobriety.
I believe it has modest value to society because it just may help some who are suffering from alcoholism or an addiction, or their suffering loved ones, and help create wider awareness of just how indiscriminate and serious alcoholism is.
Alcohol may be legal and socially acceptable, but alcoholism and addiction remains largely taboo.
Breaking the intergenerational chain
It can be an intergenerational condition that morphs into very serious illness, certainly if left untreated. This is the journey I have been on. I hope the intergenerational chain-link is broken, and just maybe because of my preparedness to be open and vulnerable.
Once wholeheartedly embraced, recovery is fun, empowering and rewarding, it really is. Vulnerability can become one’s strength – it has become mine. My best days are now ahead of me and helping those that still suffer remains a priority for me.
Piers Scrimshaw-Wright
Piers is a writer, businessman and recovering alcoholic whose forthcoming autobiography, Rock Bottom, explores childhood trauma, addiction and recovery.
The book will soon be published in aid of Nacoa.
Find out more at:
www.rockbottom.info
