I Am Not an Alcoholic: The anger never lasted long - but the consequences did

I think it’s harder not to drink in summertime. At least it is for me.Even if I haven’t bought a ticket to a faraway destination and packed a suitcase, the warm weather, blue skies, sunshine and long evenings contribute to the holiday vibe I’ve been experiencing this summer, and the temptation to drink has been more acute.Watching people sitting, al fresco, and sipping their cool, refreshing drinks can sometimes make me long to be among them. It all looks so summery – and I want to be a part of it. I spoke briefly about overconfidence being one of the reasons people relapse, and I wrote that any confidence I have is fleeting. But there must be a certain confidence – otherwise I would never go out. One beautiful evening recently I was going to a barbecue, where on arrival I was handed a cocktail. I was confident though that I wouldn’t drink the cocktail.READ MOREIf I had thought I would drink the cocktail, then I wouldn’t go.[ What is it like being addicted to alcohol in a culture soaked in it?Opens in new window ]Like a phone, my confidence needs to be charged on a regular basis. It is only in the present or near-present, not in the future. I am confident in the now and the nearly now. But will I never again drink? I don’t know. I was pickpocketed last week on the Luas. It was packed. No room to swing a cat – a pickpocket’s haven. You would be hard-pressed, if i may use such a pun, to feel someone’s hand reaching into your pocket, never mind your handbag, lined up as we were against each other like sardines in a tin. Peak times on the Luas should be X-rated, such is the intimacy displayed. Afterwards, I tried to be philosophical and said it could have been worse. It could have been my phone that was taken. Trying to retrieve lost cards is a pain, but perhaps not as painful as losing a phone. A few days later, I did lose my phone – or at least I thought I had for about two hours. We all know what it feels like to lose our phone. Even for it to die can cause us palpitations, and the swear box will overflow. Again, on a crowded Luas, I reached into my handbag to make a call when I discovered the phone wasn’t there. I was on my way to a talk, and the ticket was on my phone (isn’t everything?). I debated about continuing on to the talk (I wasn’t in good form as you can imagine), or just going home. I decided to go. It turned out I had left my phone at home. I mislaid two pairs of earrings and spent a lot of time searching for them in all the obvious and not-so-obvious places, and when they still hadn’t turned up, I decided to ask St Anthony to find them for me, promising him his usual fee. Two weeks later there was no sign of them, and a friend said she’d ask her late husband. She assured me he never lets her down when she loses something. I thanked her and thought no more about it. Three days later they turned up. I texted my friend and mentioned St Anthony’s reward. She retorted I should only pay him half, as it was her late husband who had found them. I let myself down recently too. I bumped into someone whom I didn’t know but she seemed to know who I was. I felt very uncomfortable under her scrutiny and my discomfort grew as she spoke to me. Instead of saying nothing, I gushed into words I normally wouldn’t say. I was crushed when she walked away. I had let myself down. But I had to get up again – and I did. I thought I had learnt that lesson a long time ago. It appears I hadn’t. Beware of wolves in sheep’s clothing or, in this case, a well-dressed woman with freshly blow-dried hair.I was also let down by someone who had promised me something and then reneged on it. Not only did she renege, but she lied about it. That hurt even more. She should know better. When I hear someone laughing hilariously, my initial reaction is one of envy – and then I stop myself and say how wonderful for them, and I am genuinely glad for themDoing the right thing isn’t always easy. Doing the wrong thing can be – but the price is high when the consequences row in. Recently I took a decision which I now want to renege on, but I’m not going to. I think one of the advantages of getting older (perhaps the only one) is becoming more philosophical. We learn to let things be. I’ve long argued that philosophy should be taught in primary schools, as it is in France. Charlotte Casiraghi has written a book called, La Fêlure (The Crack). She writes, “Something in us is broken; so much the better.” We are better humans when our frailty is exposed; it is where empathy is to be found, and without empathy, who are we?In studying philosophy, we learn so much about humanity. While things change, human nature rarely does. Greek philosophy teaches us that daily practice of an awareness of nature and examining our conscience will help us to find ourselves.When I came across the quote: “How much more grievous are the consequences of anger, than the causes of it,” I was struck by its truth. I’d had a history with anger and its consequences, and had struggled for years trying to control my bad temper – to no avail. I had bought every book under the sun and read reams of pages about anger-management, but it was that one sentence by Marcus Aurelius that changed my life. The anger never lasted long, but the consequences did. When the anger died down, I would be overcome with regret and shame. It would take me a long time to find myself again.These 14 words were my salvation.I felt heard and finally I was able to understand my anger and know that losing control was not the solution. It felt liberating. I knew that anger would no longer be a problem for me. Do I still get angry? Yes, but I know that I won’t react by shouting louder, and that is a godsend. I searched for other inspiration and came across another quote: “Anybody can become angry – that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way – that is not within everybody’s power and is not easy” (Aristotle). This spoke to me in the same way, and I realised that a lot of the time in the past, my anger was misplaced. I am not free of anger nor should I be, but I am in control – and that is powerful.[ Róisín Ingle: Facing my fears without alcohol has been a revelationOpens in new window ]Finally, “Anger, if not restrained, is frequently more harmful to us than the injury that provokes it.” This quote from Seneca is a profound reflection on the destructive power of anger. For me to be able to pause, reflect and exercise self-restraint in the face of frustration and disappointment is a gift. It may have come late in the day, but I am eternally grateful that I will never be the person shouting at someone because they stole my parking space. An incident I witnessed last week involved two men who got out of their cars to remonstrate with and hurl abuse at each other in colourful language. Each was convinced the space was rightfully theirs. Someone did get the parking space, but there were no winners.When I hear someone laughing hilariously, my initial reaction is one of envy – and then I stop myself and say how wonderful for them, and I am genuinely glad for them. And I hope when someone hears me laughing like that, they too will be glad for me.I read a lot, and the first thing I do whenever I buy a new book is go to the back and read the acknowledgments. I am, time and time again, amazed by the number of people authors thank. There is not just one editor to thank – sometimes there’s as many as three, together with literary agents and publishers encouraging the writer to finish the manuscript. There’s often not just one page of acknowledgments either, there can be several. I have written two books and have never had the good fortune to find a literary agent or a publisher, despite Trojan efforts on my part. I self-published my first novel mainly because, as I have mentioned in another column, I am not computer savvy and feared I might delete the entire manuscript one day. I have not given up trying to find a traditional publisher, but because not many publishers will accept unsolicited manuscripts, I am looking for the needle in the haystack – a literary agent. But I won’t give up. If you are a literary agent and are reading this, the editor has my details, ha ha. A strange thing happened one Sunday a few weeks ago. I was invited to a lunch in a county I had not visited before. I found the village charming and the restaurant an amazing cornucopia of delights with, of course, a wine list to encourage the most abstemious drinker to imbibe. But only one person present was tempted. Out of six people, only one drank alcohol. That was a first. I’m so glad I wasn’t the one.Can you imagine how difficult it would have been to hide how many glasses I’d consumed? Alcoholics Anonymous alcoholicsanonymous.ie, (01) 842 0700, gso@alcoholicsanonymous.ieHSE Drugs and Alcohol Helpline hse.ie/eng/services/list/5/addiction, 1800 459 459, helpline@hse.ieI Am Not an Alcoholic SeriesPart 1: I am not an alcoholicPart 2: I told myself I’d stop at threePart 3: Someone drank hand sanitiserPart 4: I’ve stopped drinking nine bottlesPart 5: A man told me I wasn’t honestPart 6: Will you regret taking this drink?Part 7: My eye is stuck on the winePart 8: Could the floor swallow me?Part 9: Should I try AA again?Part 10: Combating life’s little horrorsPart 11: Go on, you deserve itPart 12: Why I write anonymouslyPart 13: I lost my sparklePart 14: Abstinence has brought powerPart 15: I could not hate myself morePart 16: Hiding my dependencyPart 17: Alone in ParisPart 18: Return to rehabPart 19: Fears, anxiety ... and humourPart 20: Becoming a non-drinker changes youPart 21: Friends are distancing themselvesPart 22: Some people get uncomfortablePart 23: I was caught unawarePart 24: A lot of things changed for mePart 25: Why can’t I connect?Part 26: What harm could a glass of wine do?Part 27: Prosecco was free, water was €7Part 28: I need to change my attitudePart 29: More fun when she was drinkingPart 30: Raising mental health at a dinner partyPart 31: I never envisaged life would be so hard