My alcoholism may have caused my cancer – so why did I start drinking again?

I tried to give up drinking multiple times but I just couldn’t sustain it. I often referred to myself as “an enthusiastic social drinker” but it was much more serious than that. Most of the time I was self-medicating with booze.

When I was growing up, there wasn’t a lot of close emotional connection; as a family we didn’t talk about difficult things and anything uncomfortable was glossed over. I soon learnt to suppress emotions and a lot of the time, I felt like I didn’t fit in. Alcohol made me more relaxed and confident.

Back in the day, I worked in advertising and the culture was so boozy: the stream of lunches with clients meant a gin and tonic before the meal, bottles of wine during it, and then a digestif to finish off. It all seemed fun and normalised, but I was often drunk.

When I reached my 40s, I made an effort to cut back. I was married and had young children by then. I even said to my husband I felt like I was sleepwalking through life and believed I had a problem with alcohol. At one point, I tried AA, but it didn’t work for me. Partly because I felt I wasn’t alcoholic enough – I could still run my life through a haze of booze.

But the drinking was getting sneakier. I was secretly consuming more than anyone around me realised, and most mornings I’d wake up feeling awful and tell myself I was going to lay off the bottle that day. But by 3pm I was planning my next drink.

Then when I was 48, I came across a book called The Easy Way to Control Alcohol by Allen Carr. It made loads of sense to me, and I booked a hypnotherapy session to reinforce the messages from the book. It’s a way of rewiring your subconscious into not wanting a drink, and it actually did the job. I didn’t drink for over seven years.

But then cancer came along and my life was turned upside down. I’d had a lump in my breast for a few years, but tests kept coming back saying it was benign. In my early 50s my marriage collapsed and I went through a period of severe financial difficulties. It was incredibly stressful and I felt stretched in so many ways.

As the doctors had always wanted to keep an eye on my lump, I was scheduled for a routine mammogram. Again, the results came back normal. But this time, I felt different. Maybe because of what I’d gone through with my husband, it was like I was in a heightened state of awareness. My gut feeling was that something wasn’t right.

I went back to the doctor and said I wanted more checks. The consultants were brilliant and booked me in for another mammogram and an ultra sound. I remember being very nervous that day, and it didn’t help that the radiographer was slightly dismissive – he probably thought I was being paranoid, especially as every other mammogram had been fine. After it was done, I asked him what he could see? He looked me straight in the eye and said, “I see a woman with potentially life-saving instincts. You’re absolutely right. We have a tumour here that’s around 5cms in diameter.”

The plan was for a mastectomy, during which they would also test my lymph nodes, and then I would go on to have chemotherapy and radiotherapy. When I was told that the cancer had spread to every lymph node they tested, I was terrified. It felt like the biggest punch in the stomach and there was nothing I wanted to do more than obliterate the dark thoughts that were rattling around my head. Believe it or not, I started drinking again.

Even more distressing is that not one single medical professional spoke to me about the link between breast cancer and alcohol. At the time, I had no idea of the connection and I was never asked if I drank, or had a history of heavy drinking. It’s well-documented that one in 10 breast cancer cases are linked to alcohol consumption and the risks increase by 40 per cent if you’re regularly drinking five units or more a day.

During my treatment I laid off the booze; I was too busy throwing up from the chemo. But on the final day of my treatment, I have a photo of me with a scarf tied around my head, and I am celebrating with a glass of prosecco in my hand. It’s so perverse that I am enjoying the thing that experts know can be a cause.

Rapidly, I fell into old habits. It sounds self-destructive but I was hooked again; drinking in secret and wracked with shame. I now know I can’t drink in moderation. Before long I was on to a bottle of wine a night, sometimes more, and this behaviour continued for a further couple of years.

I wasn’t happy; I knew I had a serious problem, and one day I found myself googling ‘Am I an alcoholic?’ – I think the clue might be in the fact I was even asking that question. I came across an organisation called This Naked Mind which follows a science-based approach to reinventing your relationship with alcohol. The founder, Annie Grace, has written a book of the same name. Her approach resonated with me and I enrolled on a three-month programme. Within three weeks I was alcohol-free and I’ve never looked back. That was six years ago.

Since then I have trained as a coach in order to help people who are struggling with alcohol. But one of the most important things I’ve taken away from this experience is how much negligence there is around the communication of the health risks associated with cancer and drinking. I’ve since spoken to doctors about why this isn’t discussed, and they say they don’t want people to feel judged. But surely we need to be made more aware.

No one ever advised me to make lifestyle changes, and so while I left the hospital cancer-free, I believe I put myself in danger by drinking again. What I’d really like to see happen is warnings placed on alcohol bottles and cans, like there is on cigarettes. The mentality around booze is that it’s great fun and enjoyable to drink. But it is also a poison, especially when taken in excess. Maybe if I’d not been a drinker, I wouldn’t have gone through the hell of cancer and the subsequent treatment.

Today, I am probably the happiest I have ever been. I am fitter and stronger both mentally and physically, my career is thriving, and as a coach I can help people make better choices about managing this highly addictive substance that could damage their health. I’d like to say to all women out there, don’t wait for a spectacular rock bottom – the sooner you change your relationship with booze, the easier it will be to do so, and the quicker you can move on to live a happier, healthier and more fulfilled life.

As told to Jenny Tucker

Tabbin now works as a coach (Wine to Water Coaching) helping individuals and businesses rethink the culture around alcohol. She hosts a podcast called The Alcohol Debate and she has also written a book called Bottling Up Trouble: How alcohol is harming your business and what to do about it.