Chapter 4:

By 1995, I really wanted to get out of Dublin. On any given Friday or Saturday night I could end up anywhere. Literally. Nearly always around the city, but I could end up at a party in someone's house who I'd met in the pub the night before. I end up crashing on the couch or a spare room or something, depends on the particular circumstances.

It was generally about fifty fifty, if I remembered someone's name the next day. It wouldn't really matter if it was a party as next morning there's more people around and they are usually talking to each other and I hear names again, so that solves the problem. It's not so sweet sitting there if it's just one person, especially a girl you met the night before and you can't remember her name, because I was too drunk. Say no more…

My plan was to go to Australia. It seemed to be the furthest I could get away from Ireland. At the time, you needed two and a half thousand punts in the bank to prove you can support yourself for a year, to get the visa.

I was working in the Blue Bell industrial estate Dublin. I was earning 220 punts a week. Life had turned into a loop at this stage, work drink sleep, work drink sleep, I was getting really tired of it but couldn’t stop. I don't remember an awful lot about these times because I was going around in this haze or daze. It's like a fog is wrapped around your memories. I remember little bits and pieces, and I remember the big things, like where I lived and worked.

A bookbinding position became available in a company in Shannon, County Clare. I decided to apply for it and was actually surprised when I got a phone call asking me if I could come down for an interview. I think it would have been October ’95, that the interview took place. I traveled on the train to Limerick, and was picked up at the station.

The first thing he did was introduce himself and bring me for lunch in one of the hotels in Shannon. We chatted, he was getting to know me a little I'm sure but it was very pleasant. After lunch he reimbursed me for my travel expenses which I wasn't expecting, but I was delighted to accept this refund.

He then drove me to the factory in the industrial estate in Shannon and proceeded to show me around and the machines they had in the bindery section. It was a Saturday and the lads were working overtime.

They had a new Muller Martini machine, which I had spent a lot of my apprenticeship running and working on. This was the main reason they needed to hire someone. The book binders they had there had no experience of this machine but were doing their best to run it.

I offered to iron out one or two little difficulties they were having. I most definitely did not want to come across as a know it all or condescending in any way. The lads running the machine graciously accepted my offer and I proceeded to show them exactly what I was doing and why, it improved the running of the machine for them. They were delighted because they felt under pressure and now, I’ve helped remove that pressure.

Shortly after this, my interviewer brought me to his office. He told me he was impressed with my knowledge and my abilities and wanted to offer me a job. I then told him that I'd be looking for 400 punts per week plus an amount to be agreed on top to help me with the move from Dublin.

He told me all the tradesmen we're on the same rate which was 365 punts a week. Without flinching I told him I was slightly disappointed. He told me he couldn't do anything about that because it was a union rate and all the printers and binders were on the same rate, however, he would offer me 2000 punts to make the move to Clare.

I'm sitting opposite him with my mind racing. 365 punts a week was more than I expected, considering I was on 220 punts a week in Dublin. I estimated I would have to stay in Clare for approximately 1 year and very easily save the 2 1/2 thousand required to satisfy the Australian authorities. If I made that one year stay in Clare then I'd have plenty of money in my pocket, I may not have to work much at all in Australia, and so my adventures in county Clare begin.

At this point I told the manager, interviewer that I'd be happy to come on board. I love the countryside and this seemed like a really good thing for me. I told him I would have to give two weeks’ notice in my current position in Dublin and could start the following Monday. We then agreed on three weeks to facilitate moving and I was driven back to the train station in Limerick where I said goodbye for now.

It might have been the 17th. I'm trying to remember exactly what date I moved to Co. Clare or was it the follow on the 24th. Regardless, it was in or around those dates. November, I’m reasonably sure that I’m definitely right about that! Blame the fog!!!

I got the bus from Busarus in Dublin city center to Ennis county Clare. I arrived around lunchtime with no plan whatsoever. A pocket full of cash, the new job starts on Monday, what could go wrong?

I walked in and found myself in a very country pub. They only had Guinness on draft. I don't think there was anybody under 80 inside the place including the barmaid who I would definitely say was pushing 90. There's two or three other fellas in the back drinking bottles of Guinness. And yes, they both had wellies and caps on and an overpowering smell of cow dung to complete the picture. The barmaid, owner had to reach up to reach the tap to pull a pint a Guinness and as she's doing that for someone I asked her, "could I have a pint please, when your ready".

“We’re closed!” was her harsh reply. She went on to explain everyone else was leaving in a few minutes. To this I was thinking, they were no more leaving than the moon was about to turn green. I had a laugh to myself about this, after all she was looking at that Dub coming down to her town and she wanted nothing to do with the townies or the city boys or whatever.

I ordered a pint and quickly struck up a conversation with the barman. He had a good laugh at the thought of me picking that pub, he said he wouldn't get served either and he grew up in the town. We both had a good laugh over that.

I looked in the places to let section of the paper but found nothing. The barman was no help either, he had no idea of anyone around with places to rent or where to even look. It would have been well into the afternoon by this stage and I'm starting to get a bit worried because I've nowhere to go yet. But their was plenty of B & B's and hotels if I was that stuck.

I decided to phone the new job and see if they could offer me any advice. I didn't know what else to do. The receptionist was a very nice girl who I hadn't met yet but she knew I was starting work there on Monday. She told me the best thing I could probably do was head to Shannon. There's always rooms to rent, and once I got one of them, I can settle in and take it from there. I thanked her for the advice and headed for the bus to Shannon.

I arrived in Shannon early evening and went straight into the nearest pub. This was attached to the Shannon shopping center and the barman suggested I go out to the board outside as there's always somebody posting having rooms to let. He was correct and I found 1 and I rang up.

A woman answered the phone and she told me she still had a room to rent. It was the box room, and she was looking after the house for somebody else. The owner was somebody who owned a transport company in Shannon and she just looked after the house for him. I wasn't really bothered with all that information, I just needed somewhere to stay and what's the rent?, that's all I wanted to know but she insisted that I come to her house and have dinner. The real country way, not taking no for an answer.

Her boyfriend picked me up at the pub brought me to the house and proceeded to dish out dinner, for herself, the boyfriend and two kids, plus myself. This was very surreal for me. I'm half cut after being in the pubs, I don't really know what's going on. I'm only looking for a room to rent. After dinner she brings me to see the house, I'm happy with the room, it's a box room, what can I tell you? She then tells me it's £25 a week, I asked her did she want a month’s rent and a month’s deposit. She said, no, I think I can trust you. We're near the end of November now so you can just start paying rent in December. Did I mind paying that week in advance? Emmmm…..that’s a hard one!

They gave me bed sheets, and I moved in there and then. I was introduced to two housemates that lived together a couple, and there was another girl that worked in one of the other local pubs, so they brought me there to meet her, and we had a few pints. Happy Days!

I haven't mentioned this before and I think it’s appropriate to mention it now. I am not looking back at all the drinking and thinking how wonderful it was, I'm telling you how I felt at the time, And don't forget, addiction, addiction, addiction. For me saying it once just doesn't cut it.

Ethanol is alcohol. Alcohol is ethanol. Saying “alcohol” instead of “ethanol” is like saying “fuel” instead of “petrol.” Everyone knows fuel is petrol and petrol is fuel when it comes to the car. Same thing, different word. It’s no different than saying sodium chloride when you mean "salt", or sucrose when you mean "sugar". Ethanol is alcohol. Alcohol is ethanol. Fact.

Ethanol/Alcohol is a tiny chemical, C₂H₆O, so small it can slip through every part of the body. Blood, organs, tissues, even bone. Once it’s in, the liver tries to break it down, but the by-product, acetaldehyde, It’s poisonous, more toxic than alcohol itself, and is one of the main reasons people feel hangovers. It does real damage if it builds up. It weakens muscles, thins bones, messes with hormones, slows the immune system, inflames the stomach and pancreas, and pushes the heart harder than it should.

In the brain it dulls signals by boosting calm chemicals and blocking excitatory ones, so you get that relaxed, uncoordinated feeling. Compare that to another drug, with a much bigger molecule, which mainly locks onto dopamine transporters and overloads the reward system. This drug has a specific target.

Ethanol hits everything.

Don’t just take my word for it, go see for yourself. World Health Organization · National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism · Centers for Disease Control and Prevention · NHS UK · Mayo Clinic · PubChem (NIH) to name but a few.

So the next time you go into a public house — or maybe we should call them ‘Ethanol pick-and-mix emporiums,’ ask the barperson if you can have something light, with about 5% ethanol and maybe something stronger with about 40%, dealers choice, and see what they bring you. They might hand you a lager or a Guinness? Maybe it’s an ale? With a vodka, a brandy, or a whiskey, because they all do exactly the same thing. They’re just different flavors. And if that’s the case, maybe bar staff shouldn’t even be called bar staff anymore. Maybe the correct title is Emporium Dealers.

I digress…

I started work on the following Monday morning, I was introduced to everybody and everything was good. There was a great atmosphere in that factory. Everybody seemed to get on from the top level all the way down. There was a tea lady who prepared tea and toast every day for us, for our 10:00 break. The company owner was an Englishman and he was a very nice man. I was only there 2-3 days and I was missing in action.

I had gone out for a pint on Wednesday evening I think it was, and I'm to talking to some of the locals and one of these guys was going to a place he's called Durty Nellys, he asked me if I'd ever heard of it. I hadn't. He asked me if I wanted to go. Of course I said yes. We go to this pub and it's brilliant, it's a really traditional Irish pub all set out for the tourists and everything it's right beside Bunratty castle

We drank like it was the last night on earth, and I went from happily in a pub to waking up the next morning, and as I'm waking up, that's all I'm really remembering. I've no idea how I got home. It's late in the day and I should have been at work hours ago. I rang up with the old excuse of food poisoning. The boss was sympathetic I even offered to come in on Saturday to make up for the time I wasn't in. He thought I was looking for overtime and lost the rag with me but we smoothed it out.

I would have gotten away with it except when I got back to work he asked me how my tummy was after the food poisoning. I told him I was feeling much better and thank you very much. He said that's funny because a friend of his, a very good friend of his told him that it was all his fault I was out drinking. He met me in Shannon and it was all his fault I went to Durty Nellys. Shit!

He told me I was OK this time but don't let it happen again. He said he understood that I was new in the area and I was just getting to know the place but I have to look after the job. I think it was the following Tuesday I didn't arrive until 11:00, I was still half drunk and I put my hands up in the air and said, “I'm in!” He laughed at me that time but I don't know if I could have gotten away with it again too soon. Because it did happen again and again. You get the picture.

It wasn't long before I met someone, someone I fell in love with, someone I married and had a child with. That lasted for a total of eight years. I don't really want to talk about that. It's not something I want to share. I don't think it holds much relevance to the overall picture of what I'm talking about. The only thing that's really important is the fact that I love my daughter. That cannot or will not ever change.

I had two more relationships where we lived together after this, before treatment, but neither lasted. The first was a drinker. While I was married, I had slowed down, but not to anything you’d call normal. When you’re used to drinking heavily every day, cutting back to just a few cans feels like nothing — but to someone who doesn’t drink, or only drinks occasionally, it still looks like a lot.

The second one didn't really drink at all so that didn't last much time. We lived together for a little while, maybe a year or two but it was never going to last because she just wasn't drinking and I was going out all the time. I would be drunk every day at this stage.

I had a milk round after the book binding, that company didn't last, redundancy came two years after they started. I got a job in Galway but had the girlfriend to be wife at that stage. I rented in Galway for a little while but ultimately bought a car to drive up and down from Ennis to be with her.

I think I got fired from that job in Galway over being absent or late on a regular basis. I don't remember exactly how I lost that job but it's a fair bet. And after that I got a job helping a milkman. He had a guy who was regularly absent and he would give me a call, sometimes it could be 5:00 in the morning, but that wasn't a problem, I needed to work.

It wasn't too long before I had my own milk round, he took on another round and put me on it but it wasn't working out financially for him by the time he did all the extra paperwork that it was involved with my van so he offered to give me the round if I bought the van off him. He wanted 15,000 for the van which it wasn't worth but considering you're getting the milk round it was a good deal at the time.

Do you remember what I said was #1 on the day I was born?