Sober October – why sobriety is a queer issue: ‘I am free from the shackles of the life that was killing me’
Opinion: "Sadly, I’ve seen and experienced first-hand that, that tendency is quite common in our community," says mental health and sobriety speaker Karl Considine
Sober October is a month-long change where people give up alcohol and or drugs for the month, originally launched to raise money for the Macmillan Cancer Support charity, but now embraced worldwide as a way to reflect on drinking habits, addiction and sobriety.
For many in the queer community, where alcohol and nightlife are deeply tied to social spaces, the monthly challenge can also spark important conversations about substance misuse and the social pressures that come with the LGBTQ+ party scene.
Below, Mental health and sobriety speaker Karl Considine shares his experiences with addiction and explained why Sober October could give people like him the chance to make healthier, life-changing decisions.
I had my first drink aged 13. The classic down the park with my mates and some cheap cider. From my first sip, I knew I loved it, not the act of drinking as such, more the feeling of oblivion. That was the turning point, that I knew I would spend the rest of my drinking days seeking that same feeling.
Growing up, I loved to act the idiot, if it made people laugh, I was game. I’d learn in my thirties that it had nothing to do with being an idiot and everything to do with my aching desire to be liked. Figuring out why I felt different in a small Yorkshire town was hard. When I was younger, I was always subjected to comments about how feminine I was. “Little pufter,” I recall people saying to me; I got bullied for that a lot. Even though I didn’t really understand what a “pufter” was.
Queer people grow up with this uninvited shame that we didn’t ask for. So booze and drugs are a really easy way to deal with that. The places where we find booze and drugs are on the queer scene, in our safe spaces, one big party. Chuck us all in and hope for the best. Some people will make it, sadly, some won’t.
“Drink turned to drugs, and drugs led to benders that would last for days” – Karl Considine on drinking beyond his limits
I’ve always been predisposed to drinking beyond my limits. Sadly, I’ve seen and experienced first-hand that, that tendency is quite common in our community. We flock from small towns and villages to the bright lights of cities where we can find our people. Just the act of even seeing another gay person felt like such an occasion to me. Sadly, how we find each other isn’t always healthy. When I moved to the bright lights of Manchester, my chosen family and I spent our lives hitting it hard every weekend down Canal Street.
But drink turned to drugs, and drugs led to benders that would last for days, with sex parties thrown in to complete the holy trinity: Drink, Drugs and Sex. It became all I was interested in. Everything else was de-prioritised so that I could live my best gay life. This is why gay people like me moved to places like Manchester, right? To get ‘twisted’, constantly.
The truth is, yes, I had good times: drag, gay bars, a cheeky bump in the toilets, but after years of taking it too far, it actually left me depressed, suicidal, exhausted and totally isolated. It had to stop.
Change eventually happened on 4 January 2021, my first day of sobriety. I’ve been sober ever since. A nurse told me a few weeks prior that drink and drugs would kill me before I’d reach 40 years old, I was aged 36 at the time.
Research by Drink Aware shows that LGBTQ+ people are more likely to binge drink at 70% versus 62% for non-LGBTQ+ people. Binge drinking was the norm, not just for me but for all those around me, which eventually led me to addiction. Binge drinking means we are “higher-risk” drinkers, and sadly, we are more likely to experience depression, anxiety, and lower life satisfaction as a result. I can say first-hand that when I was drinking, my reality was cycles of depression and anxiety punctuated by life passing me by.
“No wonder we reach for something to cope” – Considine on dealing with sexual and/or gender identity
My story isn’t unusual – it’s there in the data. So why is this, and why is nobody talking about it?
Drinking to cope and drinking to fit in are two huge factors, which comes as no surprise really. Dealing with sexual and/or gender identity is life-changing, and although it can be life-affirming, overcoming our own challenges with our identity and the challenges the world creates for us is bloody hard. No wonder we reach for something to cope, and with bars, clubs, brunches and pride events, it is baked into our culture.
Someone asked me recently what community means to me. For me, it means belonging, our community is a space where judgement and acceptance isn’t an aspiration, it is a reality. But sometimes that can be hard to find, even within our own community. The one thing that stopped me from getting sober for too many years was fear. Fear of “what would I do on weekends” if I wasn’t out getting on it. Even though it was ruining my life, I couldn’t bear the thought of not having it. Gay people don’t exist anywhere else, right?
“Maybe this Sober October is your chance to try getting clean” – Considine’s advice for readers
Getting sober wasn’t easy. I reached out to the LGBT Foundation when I was at rock bottom, they helped me to get some professional support, and I went into treatment for drug and alcohol misuse to get some initial abstinence under my belt. It was nice to get help from a place that understood me and the challenges I faced. I felt safe saying, “Yeah, I binge on coke for days, end up at big gay sex orgies, and then drown in shame for days after.”
Over the years, I have found what works for me and sobriety has been life-changing. I can, hand on my heart, say getting sober has been the hardest but best decision I have ever made. My life today is completely different from where I was years past, I am free from the shackles of the life I dreamt of, but a life that was killing me. Something that surprised me is that changing my weekend habits doesn’t mean I no longer meet fellow queers – we just hang out in different places.
If alcohol or drugs are causing some friction in your life, maybe this Sober October is your chance to try getting clean.