Alcohol, Autism and Recovery: My Journey to 5 Years Sober

Early Experiences with Alcohol and Neurodiversity

I first got drunk when I was 15, on a pebble beach in the Lake District. As an autistic and queer young person who had experienced bullying and often felt socially awkward, alcohol seemed to offer something I desperately wanted: confidence.

After a pint of cider or two – though often more – conversations felt easier, social situations felt less intimidating, and I could relax in ways that didn't come naturally to me. At the same time, I had a complicated relationship with alcohol from the beginning. I both loved and hated the feeling of being drunk.

Looking back, I can see how alcohol became linked to my experience of masking and navigating the world as a neurodivergent person.

Using Alcohol as a Social Lubricant

During college and university, drinking became a central part of my social life. I proudly claimed I could drink anyone under the table thanks to my Scottish heritage, and heavy drinking felt normal within my friendship groups.

As part of the punk scene, alcohol was often woven into the culture. I still remember someone showing me how to put a two pence coin behind a bottle cap to turn it into a badge that could be pinned to a shirt. In many ways, I was literally wearing my drinking as a badge of honour.

The reality was less glamorous. I regularly blacked out, struggling to remember large parts of nights out. Yet those experiences were often laughed off when friends retold the stories the next day.

The Warning Signs I Ignored

Despite the fun, there were signs that my relationship with alcohol wasn't healthy.

I hated the hangovers, and some of my behaviour left me feeling ashamed even at the time. There were periods when I tried to quit drinking altogether, inspired by bands such as Minor Threat and Black Flag and their messages about abstaining from alcohol and other substances.

But every time I stopped, I found myself returning. The social aspect, the temporary confidence and the sense of escape kept pulling me back.

When Drinking Became a Way to Cope

Like many people, my habits changed during the Covid pandemic.

At the time, my partner worked nights while I worked during the day. We rarely saw each other, and our lives started to feel like we were passing ships in the night. I became deeply lonely.

One memory still sticks with me. There was a ten-minute window each day when I was travelling home and my partner was heading to work. I'd go to the bus stop just to spend those few minutes together before we went our separate ways again.

It was during this period that alcohol stopped being fun and started becoming a coping mechanism.

Drinking Alone and Recognising Problematic Alcohol Use

For the first time in my life, I started drinking at home alone.

The connection between alcohol and being able to unmask as a neurodivergent person became even stronger. While I was never physically dependent on alcohol, I increasingly relied on the way being drunk made me feel.

I started chasing that feeling. I found excuses to go out, opportunities to drink and reasons to continue patterns that I now recognise had become problematic.

Over time, alcohol became less about enjoyment and more about escape.

The Moment I Decided to Stop Drinking

My turning point came after a house party.

I woke up feeling deeply embarrassed by the night before, and the hangover felt unbearable. In that moment, I knew something needed to change.

Around the same time, I received a diagnosis of Type 1 diabetes. The diagnosis reinforced what I already knew: I needed to stop going back and forth and make a firm decision about my drinking.

So I quit.

Five Years Sober and Looking Forward

Today, I'm proud to say that I'm five years sober.

The world is becoming a more welcoming place for people who choose to reduce their alcohol use or stop drinking altogether. Drinks I once loved, including rum and cider, are now available in a growing range of alcohol-free alternatives, making social occasions much easier to navigate.

More importantly, sobriety has given me something I didn't realise I was missing: control.

I enjoy nights out more than I did when I was drinking. I'm present, I remember the experiences and I no longer have to worry about what happened the night before.

My journey with alcohol wasn't straightforward, but recovery has shown me that change is possible. Whether you're questioning your drinking, supporting someone else, or considering reaching out for help, it's important to remember that you don't have to face those challenges alone.

Finding My Own Path to Recovery

Unlike some people in recovery, I didn't follow the 12 Steps and I never accessed alcohol support services.

Instead, I found my own way of staying sober. Whenever I felt tempted to drink, I reminded myself how I felt after that house party. Remembering that feeling helped me stay focused on my goal.

However, looking back, I can also see the value of professional support. If I had known more about the help available through organisations like Turning Point, I would have been keen to reach out.

Recovery looks different for everyone. What works for one person may not work for another, which is why raising awareness of support services is so important. Free, non-judgemental help is available for people facing challenges with alcohol or other substances, regardless of where they are in their recovery journey.

Now that I work for Turning Point, I see first-hand the positive impact these services have on people's lives every day.

If you're concerned about your drinking or someone else's, Turning Point provides free, confidential and non-judgemental support for people affected by alcohol and substance use.