My Story
I never thought of myself as someone with a drinking problem.
For most of my adult life, I was simply a social drinker. Alcohol was part of celebrations, weekends, holidays, meals with friends and almost every social occasion. It felt normal because that was how it had always been.
Over time, though, something changed.
Drinking slowly stopped being just a social activity and became part of my everyday routine. I would have a beer while cooking, another while eating and another while watching TV — not because there was a special occasion, but simply for the sake of it.
Sometimes, I did not even intend to have a beer. I would find myself walking to the fridge almost on autopilot. Before I had really thought about it, I was standing there with a drink in my hand.
It had become such a deeply ingrained habit that I was not always making a conscious decision anymore. The amount I drank gradually increased, almost without me noticing.
For me, the biggest problem was not having the first beer.
It was stopping at one.
Once I had opened the first one, I rarely wanted to stop. I could force myself to, but I did not want to. Stress and habit had become much bigger drivers than enjoyment.
I was, by most definitions, a functioning alcoholic. I held down a job, looked after my family, kept things together on the outside. Nobody would have looked at me and seen a problem. But I knew. The amount I was drinking was not normal, and the hold it had over my evenings was not something I could keep ignoring.
Alcohol also became a coping mechanism. Life is busy. Between work, family, responsibilities and the constant list of things that need doing, I often felt under pressure. After a few beers, I felt relaxed. My mind slowed down and I stopped worrying so much.
At the time, it felt like alcohol was helping me cope. Gradually, I realised I was relying on it more and more to switch off.
I also began to notice what alcohol was taking away from me. I exercised less, skipped sports and lost motivation. After a few beers, I stopped caring about what I ate. Healthy intentions disappeared and I would eat whatever junk food happened to be nearby.
None of these things seemed significant on their own, but together they were slowly pushing me in a direction I did not want to go.
I have a young family, and I do not want alcohol to become something that defines my future — or theirs.
My parents were both heavy drinkers, and my mother eventually died from alcohol-related illness. That made me realise I could not keep assuming things would somehow be different for me if I continued down the same path.
I knew I wanted to change. Not necessarily because I never want to enjoy another beer, but because I want to be in control of the decision.
My goal is freedom.
I want to be able to enjoy one or two beers with friends and then stop because that is enough — not because I have had to force myself to stop.
When I started thinking seriously about changing my habits, I looked at some of the apps that already existed. There are good tools available, but I realised I wanted to create something I could control and shape around the way I think, the things that motivate me and the features I personally needed.
So I decided to build Beacon.
Beacon started as something for me: a tool to help me understand my habits, stay accountable and remember why I wanted to change. But I also hope it can help others.
I do not know whether my story will resonate with everyone.
But perhaps you have also found yourself standing in front of the fridge with a drink in your hand before you had consciously decided to have one. Perhaps drinking has quietly become part of your everyday routine. Perhaps you are not sure whether you have a serious problem, but you know something does not feel right.
Or perhaps you simply want to feel in control again rather than following the same habits every day.
That is who I built Beacon for.
I should be honest about one more thing. I wrote most of this having had a few beers. I am not sure whether that makes it more authentic or simply ironic. Probably both. But I think it is worth saying, because that is exactly the point — I am not writing this from the other side of a transformation. I am writing it from the middle of one.