I once told some Spanish friends about my drinking, my implosion and the subsequent sobriety story. As I said it loud, it sounded fucking mental.

They told me I should write a book to help people. I may well do one day, but since the inception of SOBERnSOUND, I have wanted to delve deeper than the captions on an Instagram post.

The newsletter gives me the opportunity to reach you on a more profound level. To tap into my old story and explore what went wrong, what I’ve since done right, and how it can make your sobriety journey a smoother experience.

A year into SOBERnSOUND, I have been amazed and deeply touched by the response to the page, and feel like it’s time to explore topics at length.

Today, we will look into acceptance, and how it is the catalyst for everything when it comes to getting sober.

I hope you enjoy reading.

Get To Midnight. Go Again.

The Day I Accepted My Alcoholism

I woke in a mate’s spare room. Monday. Granada, Spain. Stiflingly hot, even for April. Mentally and physically shot.

The 19 millionth hangover of a life blighted by ice-cold lagers, crisp white wine, a full-bodied red, scotch, gin, anything… I grab two cans from my mate’s fridge. It’s 8am.

He’s gone. I need to get back to Seville. I’m jobless, my brain is mush. I’ve been on Mandy and rum for 3 days. Friday night was the final straw for my flatmate. I have not one dime in my bank. I’m 33. It’s over.

I traverse the suburbs of a city I don’t know. I try a shortcut through the hills and get lost. Ping. My flip-flop snaps. Battery 4% perhaps. It’s over.

Sadness and despair. Abject emptiness. But with enough fight to find my way to the city. What now? How can I plummet further?

I see my flatmate. He gives me 50 euros and a filthy sneer. I charge my phone in a cafe, call my ex. Tell her I concede defeat. She says come home to the UK and get sober.

I say no, but promise to call tomorrow. 2 cans of Alhambra and a train ride to Seville later, I am in my flat. There is a swig left of the second can. I pour it down the sink. Not had a drink since.

When you’re done, you’re done.

But, if the world isn’t giving you the appropriate sign, sometimes you have to work it out for yourself.

Read on to discover how you can accept the truth. Finally.

Today's Steps to Sobriety.

• Welcome To The First Edition!

• The Day I Accepted My Alcoholism

  • Acceptance: The First (and Hardest) Step

  • Something To Ponder

• Need More Insipration?!

It seems appropriate to start with acceptance in the first edition of this newsletter. Because if you can’t accept you’ve got a problem, the game’s up, mate. Gimme your white towel.

But here’s the truth: Acceptance isn’t defeat. It’s the moment you start fucking winning. When the weight of pretending everything’s sweet is lifted, you create space to actually take care of business.

So, do we just get up one morning, have a quick ciggie and a coffee, and say, “Oh, okay then, I am an alcoholic!”? Nah, sadly not. It’s a slow burn. A full-on, uncomfortable, relentless examination in the mirror.

And trust me—you’ll become FIRMLY acquainted with the mirror in the coming months. The good news? You’re gonna get hotter and slimmer with each encounter.

If you’re reading this, chances are booze is a beast in your life that you want gone. So, how do we bridge that gap between “scared to admit and commit” and “I’m getting sober”?

Now, if you’ve seen my content on Instagram, you’ll know I like to get to the point in the fastest, most aggressive manner. And this is no different.

Acceptance starts with dropping the denial. Who the fuck are we kidding?! Drink has wrecked and rinsed every aspect of your life—or is in the process of doing so. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you subscribed.

This is private. Between you and me. You know the truth. I know it. So say it. Wherever you are, right now:

"I’ve got a drink problem. I need help."

Well done. Now breathe. See? Nobody died.

And here’s the thing—when you accept, you naturally seek help. Because deep down, you know you’re fucked without it.

When you’re finally surrounded by people who get it—who’ve been there—the acceptance will smash you right in the teeth. My first AA meeting was the starkest realisation that I was undeniably, unquestionably, a broken alcoholic.

But I walked out five stone lighter. Figuratively, like. I was still a fat, bloated prick, but one thing at a time, hey?!

With this newfound lightness, there is space to analyse. An opportunity to look at the why.

Why has drink become your weapon of choice to numb the pain? What are you actually trying to escape? Because it’s not the taste of fucking Guinness, let’s be real.

When you start to piece together why you drink, you identify what needs work. What parts of your life are the real reason you smash 11 cans of Stella on a Tuesday night?

And what you need to drop is the idea that sobriety is some kind of self-imposed torture or punishment. It’s not. It’s the polar opposite. It’s a wealth of opportunity. It’s the promised land of fulfilment and purpose.

Acceptance of the problem highlights the urgent need for a solution. And if that takes you to AA, a therapist, or an online community like this one—then you’ve rid yourself of the biggest hurdle.

Because getting sober needs intentional steps forward. One at a time. Focusing only on the here and now. The past? That’s a lesson. Nothing more.

You don’t need to carry that weight anymore.

The future? You’ll deal with that when it comes. Right now, it’s about choosing today.

Acceptance doesn’t mean you’ll never crave another drink. It just means you finally see booze for what it is—a fucking con artist that’s robbed you blind for years.

It also doesn’t mean you’ll wake up tomorrow with everything fixed. But it does mean you’ve stopped making excuses, and that’s a massive win.

There will be moments when your brain tries to gaslight you. Maybe I wasn’t that bad. Maybe I could just cut down. That’s denial creeping back in, and you need to shut that shit down immediately.

The only way out is through. And the only way through is by staying in reality—not some nostalgic, bullshit version of your drinking days.

You have two choices: cling to a destructive past or embrace a future where you’re fully in control. One keeps you trapped. The other sets you free.

Sobriety isn’t the end of fun—it’s the start of real joy. It’s laughter you remember, mornings you don’t regret, and confidence that’s actually yours, not some chemical illusion.

And look, this won’t be easy. But neither was drinking yourself into the ground every night and pretending you were fine.

So if you’ve taken nothing else from this, take this:

You’ve already done the hardest part. You’ve admitted it. Now it’s time to do something about it.

And I promise you—this side of life is better.

Need More Insipration?!

If a blunt as fuck podcast on alcoholism and sobriety is your jam then check out The Sober Stretch, which I co-host with my friend Craig. With 13 years of sobriety between us, we will bring you an honest appraisal of what it takes to get sober.

Thank you for subscribing, and I hope you enjoyed reading. Back soon!

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