I was shaking like a leaf but I kidded myself I was fooling everyone

'I specifically chose my high-flying job in the pharmaceutical industry because I knew it would be easier for me to drink. As a consultant in a large city hospital, I had previously been dealing with patients and colleagues each day and found the pressure of hiding my double life increasingly tricky. Rather than seek help for an alcohol problem, however, I moved into the business side of medicine which gave me more freedom for all the wrong reasons.

I had the grand title of European director of clinical research for a leading pharmaceutical company which meant a lot of travelling both around the UK and to Europe and America. Leaving my wife and young child at home I would orchestrate as many of these trips as possible to allow me to drink whenever I wanted. I was hiding my boozing from my family, although my wife had a good idea by then.

I looked forward to getting to Heathrow or Gatwick and ordering large whiskies. By this time, I was expert at concealing my habits from others. I would arrive at a conference and turn down complimentary drinks, explaining that I was teetotal. What people didn't see was me drinking myself into oblivion in my hotel room that night.

It was a hell of a job trying to appear normal. I would use excuses for a bad performance at a meeting, saying I had 'flu coming on or that I'd had a bad night's sleep. I knew I was sweating and shaking like a leaf on some occasions but I kidded myself I was fooling everyone. Looking back, some people may have guessed.

If I couldn't make a business conference I would pretend I was in bed with food poisoning. You become adept at telling lies – and can do the bare minimum your job requires to get by.
At home, if I looked hungover in the morning I would convince my wife that someone had spiked my drink or given me a double when I was at the pub. It was never my fault.
Even if I was playing golf there would be a half bottle of Scotch in my bag and I would tell myself this was totally acceptable.

All the time I was in emotional turmoil. I wouldn't accept that I was an alcoholic because that would mean having to give up drink. I just didn't want to do that. It totally had me in its grip and although it was making me miserable I couldn't stand the thought of being without it. Booze may have been destroying my life but, in my deluded eyes, it seemed like your best friend.

When I was working as a hospital consultant I had learned to do things like rub toothpaste on my gums or eat mint sweets to hide the smell of alcohol. I also drank vodka, convinced it was harder to detect on my breath. Now I know that when you are an alcoholic, your whole body smells of the stuff.

I would do what I call 'white knuckling it' and give drink up all week while dealing with patients only to hit the bottle hard at the weekends. I was in my thirties at this point.
I come from a stable family and have no deep dark reasons why I turned to alcohol. I didn't have my first drink until I was 19. I believe I have a physical allergy which makes it impossible for me to stop drinking once I start.

I was first officially told I had a problem when I was discharged from the army for having what was described as a chronic-alcohol problem. I'd been offered minimal help. I did try talking to an army psychologist about it on one occasion but then I lied when he asked how much I was drinking. He ended up taking me out for a pint, saying it was just my nerves getting the better of me.

When I went on to work as a hospital consultant I would drink at four local pubs near where I lived.

Again I was busy fooling those around me by having a couple of large whiskies in one place, then pretending I was heading up the road, but really going for more at the next pub. At the fourth stop I would knock back a couple then buy a bottle to take home for a nightcap. I would never have wanted anyone to see me falling down drunk. There were friends and colleagues in those places and it was important to me to appear normal.

All the time though I was leading two different lives and struggling physically with the side effects such as sickness, diarrhoea, upset stomach – and I was barely eating. Hangovers were part of my life and when I was drinking the feelings of self-loathing and remorse were overpowering. You try and recreate the happy buzz you get from socialising in the early days of your addiction but it never comes back.

It wasn't until years later when I was drunk after returning from a meeting at the pharmaceutical firm that my wife finally forced me to come clean and get some help. I called Alcoholics Anonymous and went to my first meeting. It's not how it appears in films. You don't have to stand up and beat your breast in front of strangers.

It was much gentler and more caring than that. I also realised there were members from all walks of life including doctors, like me, lawyers, priests and business people.

For eight years I stayed off drink until I stupidly thought I was safe to have one again. I crashed off the wagon and ended up quietly boozing for two and a half years. It was more lies and secret binges.

I would go to AA meetings and pretend everything was fine. People thought I was a great person because I only wanted to talk about them, never me. The truth was, I was busy hiding what was really going on in my life.

I eventually admitted to a trusted friend what happened and I managed to pull myself together.

My wife and I have separated but I am lucky as we get on well and I am still close to my daughter. I think one way I coped with the deception through my alcoholic years was to be emotionally detached. Drink comes first, above family, friends, career, everything. It's a selfish illness that takes its toll on relationships.

I am happy today to have come through it all but I never see myself as cured. I still think about a cold beer on a hot summer's day.

I have been interested in the Charles Kennedy situation as it unfolds. I don't think he was lying to the press when he said he didn't have a problem.

I would have done the same thing when I was in deep denial about the seriousness of my situation. I would bet that it is a relief for him to have now come clean as he won't be under the terrific pressure of hiding his secret life from loved ones and colleagues.

With help, he will hopefully have a chance of getting alcohol under control as myself and so many other people I know have done.

Good luck to him.

The Herald