26/07/2026
2 years (holy s**t)
No big announcement. No dramatic rock-bottom story I’m ready to share. Just two years of not drinking, and quietly becoming someone I actually recognise.
I stopped drinking because, honestly, I’d simply had enough of feeling a bit s**t all the time.
I didn’t realise how much of my anxiety was the alcohol. How much of the exhaustion was the alcohol. How much of the distance between me and E was the alcohol.
I genuinely thought that was just who I was.
Anxious. Tired. Slightly grumpy. Finishing E’s leftover macaroni cheese at the kitchen counter at 10pm and convincing myself that eating cold pasta with my fingers was a perfectly normal adult dinner.
I’m not saying sobriety fixed everything. It didn’t. I still lose my phone while it’s in my hand, and I still get absolutely schooled by a five-year-old in games where he keeps changing the rules halfway through.
But it did give me enough clarity to start fixing things myself.
The therapy. The routines. The conversations I’d been avoiding. And, more than anything, being truly present. Not just physically in the room, but actually listening, playing, noticing the little things, and having the patience to enjoy them — even when I’m being asked “why?” for the 47th time before 8am.
I’m a calmer dad now. A more patient dad. And that’s probably the thing I’m most grateful for.
Dad Health exists because I needed to change, and I couldn’t find anything that understood what being a dad in that situation actually felt like. Not a fitness influencer. Not a wellness guru. Just a dad trying to get his life back while stepping on Lego in the dark.
Two years. Quietly. One day at a time.
If you’re somewhere I used to be, you don’t have to say it out loud. But you can. 💚
— link in bio.