During one session in recovery services I was asked to think of something in my life that I’d achieved – and then to analyse how I’d done that. It could be anything that had taken work and time – passing an exam, frequently getting out of the house whilst feeling depressed, saving to buy house, leaving an abusive marriage… the discussion amongst the group was very interesting.

For me I thought about getting published and as I spoke the parallels between that process and getting sober appeared.

It took me eight years to get a deal. During that time I got rejection after rejection. But I picked myself up after the initial tears and kept on writing and submitting my manuscripts.

And during the first few weeks of being in addiction services I kept on stopping drinking – but slipping again. So I tried again. And again.

I remember similar senses of entitlement. When I sent off my first ever manuscript I was upset but also kind of baffled that I received a rejection… I thought that completing a novel was amazing enough to gain a publisher! In the same way, I thought it was enough to finally take the plunge and get into addiction services. I expected the group sessions to magically get me sober; that I was kind of owed that recovery in the same way I’d thought, all those years ago, that I was owed a publishing deal.

Then it hit me about six weeks into treatment: I was going to have to do this myself – albeit with the facilitators’ advice. And I was going to have to work bloody hard at it – just like the writing. No one else would write and polish and submit my novels. It was important to learn my craft and take advice form other authors and How To books etc etc… but, ultimately, it was going to be down to me.

There were big hurdles along the way to achieving both my goals of being published and staying sober. An agent chased me at one point but, ultimately, told me to move on, they were no longer interested. And, three months into recovery, I relapsed. Both of these set-backs were hard and getting through the first helped with the second. Trying to get published had taught me there was no point in pity parties. All I could do was pick myself up and carry on working towards my goal.

That’s the key. Taking it one day at a time. If I’d thought ahead when I’d first started writing, and considered that it might take me YEARS to get a deal, I wonder if I’d have carried on. And when I first went into addiction services would I have stayed there if I’d known about the day to day, month to month, year to year, challenges ahead?

Because it has been hard. The first half of this year was very wobbly for my recovery. But I got through it, one day at a time, not thinking about the future, not thinking about the past.

A therapist suggested I write a positivity diary to help with my mental health issues. Each day I was told to write down a couple of good things about myself. It was hard at first but, over time, it helped change my low opinion of myself. So if you are struggling to get published, do the same to make yourself realise that you ARE  progressing. Perhaps today you finished a difficult chapter or took another rejection on the chin. Write that down. Or keep a daily word count, however big or small. It’s the sum of all these very important little things that, in time, will help you achieve the bigger ones.

Of course, one can never get complacent. Even though I’m about to have my 12th novel The Christmas Calendar Girls published, I am only ever one breath away from a potentially bad review or a downturn in sales. Even though I am 1000 days sober I am only one breath away from relapsing again. The working hard and learning must never stop.

Good luck with your goals. Forget the what ifs and if onlys. Focus on what you are doing and achieving in the present moment and that will be all the magic you need to get there

“This year I will get published.”

“This year I’ll stop drinking.”

Over the years I’ve pledged to reach career heights or sort out all my mental health issues within the space of twelve months.

And every time I’ve failed to reach my set goal. Is it any wonder?

I’d advise you to look carefully at any resolution you make and give it a good edit. Pare it down to the minimum – otherwise you are going to end up disheartened and disappointed.

Let’s take my example of pledging to get published. For a number of years I vowed I would accomplish this but it’s impossible. It didn’t matter how hard I worked, so much of achieving that target is out of an author’s control. Your manuscript has to fall into the hands of the right agent and publisher, and for commercial fiction it has to be suited to the market and your writing needs to be at the top of your game…

So, in time, I learned to make my writing resolutions more realistic. For example “This year I will polish my manuscript and send it out to ten agents” or “This year I will enter some writing competitions and if I can save enough money pay have an editorial report done on my current work-in-progress.” There are many steps to getting published and it is far more satisfying, as time passes, to tick off each one as you accomplish it. Appreciating the journey and looking at it as a series of smaller parts will make it far more likely you’ll reach that ultimate destination.

And this applies once you have signed your first publishing contract. Hands up, secretly I still covet that film deal and stroll down the red carpet. But if I made that my New Year’s resolution, the likelihood is I’m going to feel like a massive failure by the end of the year when I haven’t cast Jason Momoa in the lead of my latest novel or been interviewed on Graham Norton’s sofa!

My resolutions to stop drinking were also unrealistic. Like publishing, the journey to sobriety is made up of many steps. But I’d try in one giant leap and just stop point blank without changing any other aspect of my life. Of course, I would fall off the wagon by the end of January (or often its first week) and feel like a complete loser. Addiction services and AA helped me to refine and edit my goals.

For example, I had quirky routines around my drinking and one was that I’d never allow myself to start before 6.40pm. So a first step – a first resolution, a first small change – was to break this habit by going for a coffee, having a bath, cooking or taking up a hobby at that specific time each day, instead. And doing this was the first step to stopping drinking all together. Each day I managed this, it inspired me to continue my journey.

So go and edit your resolution. Step back from the bigger picture. Analyse exactly what it is you really need to do, to reach your ultimate target. For example to you need to lose two stone? Perhaps resolve to cut out snacks and get off the bus one stop early to walk, as a starting point, instead of embarking on a crash diet.

The photo below is of a writer who’s had highs and lows but has learnt to appreciate ALL the special moments along the way, big or small, such as great reader feedback, foreign rights sales or simply an editor’s enthusiasm. It’s also of a woman who this week turned two years sober. Oh I slipped after three months, and picked up again – that taught me a lot. And I still have days where I want to drown my problems in a bottle of wine. But I don’t. I continue to pursue my goal, one day and one task at a time, relishing the smaller milestones and victories that keep pushing me forwards to living my dream.

And – most importantly of all –  I don’t beat myself if I fail at the target I’ve set myself.

As Nelson Mandela once said:

“I never lose. I either win or learn.”

Here are the most stand-out elements of the knowledge I’ve gained.

There is no such thing as normal – you will often hear someone with poor mental health enviously say they wish they were normal. It’s a false aspiration because every person has their story behind the scenes. Normality cannot be defined and therefore doesn’t exist. A better word to use is “ordinary”. And ordinary life it one to be valued where the small things matter like a beautiful sunrise or kind gesture.  One key to good mental health is learning to be satisfied with the great things you’ve already got that you may be overlooking; and realising you don’t need to chase the high life to be happy.

Mother Nature has wired us think negatively –  to protect us from taking risks. Once you recognise this you are given the power to understand your negative thinking and dismiss it. So try to identify those voices that are holding you back; telling you to be afraid of trying something new – telling you that you won’t be any good. Mother Nature was right to make us wary when we went hunting – but it’s less relevant if it’s about contacting a potential agent or going on a first date.

Other types of negative thinking can be disarmed once they see them for what they are. For example mindreading – thinking  you know what other people are thinking. Say a friend walks down the street and ignores you, an immediate assumption might be that you’ve done something wrong and your self-esteem plummets. The thing is, you don’t have a crystal ball and don’t know the truth. Perhaps your friend didn’t see you or is simply having a bad day. And try not to label yourself. “I’m a bad person”. And ditch black and white thinking, like “I never get things right”. You’re human. Sometimes you will make mistakes. This doesn’t define you.

Mindfulness has taught me to live in the present and this helps mental health enormously. You can’t change the past so don’t let it fester. You can’t predict the future so there’s no point thinking about it. Took a bad interview yesterday? It’s over. Move on. Convinced you’ll fail the one tomorrow. You don’t know that so there is no point worrying. All of this seems very easy to say, but from personal experience I know that it really is possible, over time, to retrain your mind.

Buddhism has taught me not to attach to the good or bad times. A spate of great book reviews? Enjoy but it may not last. A poor sales ranking? That won’t last forever either. Any career – like life – enjoys peaks and suffers troughs. Buddhism has made me realise that attachment – to anything – brings expectations and that can lead to disappointment, feeling like a failure and low self-esteem if things don’t go to plan. I find it’s much healthier if I accept that life – health, careers, relationships – is fluid and ever-changing. This is especially useful if I suffer a set-back. I now have the perspective to look back and see the proof that terrible things may happen but life does move forwards again, eventually.

Talking really is good – for years I hid my eating disorder issues and later my problems with alcohol. I ended up feeling as if I was leading a double life. People have said I’m brave for coming out about my poor mental health but, to be honest, it just feels like a massive relief. And it’s been humbling, since speaking publicly, how many people have contacted me privately to share their problems. It’s worrying, as well, that they feel they have to hide their conditions. We wouldn’t hide an arthritic hand or sickness bug. We shouldn’t have to hide illnesses of the mind.

I learnt that treatment can be hard to get. I wasn’t at the end of the alcoholic spectrum, drinking 24/7 and needing a detox, and therefore my path wasn’t straightforward. Alcohol services have been cut and certainly in my locality funding for patients not as far into addiction has been lost. And it’s also a well-documented fact that nationally the treatment available for eating disorder sufferers is dismal, even though out of all mental illnesses it’s the one with the highest suicide rate…

BUT

I feel positive about the future – finally people are being more open. Talking about poor mental health is the only way we can get rid of stigma and save lives. It’s the only way governments will realise more needs to be done. And that’s one reason I’m so glad my new novel, Forgive Me Not, is getting into the hands of readers. I hope it offers an insight into addiction and the related mental health issues.

So if you’re going through a difficult time, don’t be ashamed of feeling down. Statistics prove you are far from alone. Open up. Tell someone. And begin your journey to getting better.

I’m exceptionally grateful for the treatment and support I’ve had. During the process of recovery I’ve learnt a lot about how to cope with the stresses and strains of modern life, thanks to group therapy, counselling, AA, Buddhism and mindfulness.

A large positive is that I’m now learning to deal – it’s still a work in progress – much better with my career as an author. So, fellow writers, here are my top tips for keeping yourself safe from poor mental health.

Firstly manage your expectations. Before I got published I used to dream about signing a movie deal and would imagine myself on a red carpet. If you do this you’re setting yourself up for failure. Film rights sell but the movie you fantasise about rarely comes to fruition. So don’t start off by coveting the success of the biggest bestselling authors. Just finishing  a manuscript is a huge achievement, let alone getting it published. Take your career step by step – it’s a cliche but I visualise mine as a ladder. You eventually bag an agent. Or a publisher. Perhaps both. Your first book is out. Then your second. Then another. Perhaps one or more of your books appear in foreign languages or audio format. You gain a bestseller flag on Amazon. Maybe you win an award.

But none of this is going to happen at once. It’s a long road to writerly success punctuated with disappointments – they are part of the journey. Never forget to appreciate the small things. A positive rejection letter. A good review. A lovely book cover. That was one of my problems before – I was always chasing the bigger picture. I work hard at not doing that now and feel much happier and fulfilled.

Secondly – realise your work is not you. What I mean by this is… if you get a bad review, never forget that is someone’s opinion of your writing, NOT YOU AS A PERSON.  If one of my books sank in the charts, for example, I used to tell myself I had failed. And that led me to seek unhelpful coping mechanisms to make myself feel better, such as drinking or eating junk food.

Nowadays I distance myself and whilst my writing is my vocation, my lifeblood, I try to be more clinical and objective about certain aspects.

And don’t obsess over reviews or rankings. Limit how often you go into Goodreads or onto Amazon.

Thirdly – don’t get carried away with the branding. I used to love promoting my romantic comedies and was a real kittens and cupcakes kind of author. But then, when my mental health became poor, this became tough. I didn’t feel I could talk about the challenges I was facing as they didn’t match that image. An image that was the real me but, as my health failed, didn’t represent the whole. So my advice – some may disagree – is that whilst branding is very important it mustn’t have the final say on how you use social media.

Fourthly – one of the gift’s from AA is the  mantra “Accept the things you cannot change” In the past I used to stew about the what ifs, and if onlys. What’s the point? Now I’ll simply shrug my shoulders – it’s not always easy – and say to myself “It is what it is”. This is extremely liberating and gets rid of the pent up frustration.

This ties into mindfulness – focusing on the present. Had a bad review yesterday? No matter. It’s been and gone. Worried about next week’s book signing? No point. It will be what it will be. Getting anxious and projecting into the future won’t change that. You haven’t got a crystal ball. Don’t fool yourself that you have.

Lastly and on personal note as someone recovering from alcoholism and eating disorders, keep an eye on your drinking and food habits. Alcohol is a big part of the publishing industry. Wine o’clock. Prosecco parties. Boozy book launches. Drinking in moderation, in a social setting is one thing – but drinking to change the way you feel is quite another. If that’s what you are doing you need to see this as a warning sign. I used to drink to further boost the great feeling of a good ranking. Or to make myself feel chirpier after a poor review. Slowly, insidiously this escalated and before I knew it I could find any excuse.

If you do anything – drinking, eating, shopping, gambling – to give yourself a boost, to take the edge off a disappointment, to relax yourself after a busy day, then you are doing it to change the way you feel and need to step back before it becomes addictive and out of control.

Find different, healthier coping mechanisms. Go for a walk. Meet a friend for a chat. Have a candle-lit bath. Learn to meditate.

I love my career and feel blessed to have had so many novels published, to have had bestellers. My writing hasn’t been to blame for my problems. Nothing – no one – is to blame but myself and the way I’ve dealt with challenges. But do yourself a favour and bear these tips in mind. Being an author is a wonderful thing if you have the right tools to deal with the rollercoaster ride. 

Also, I won’t ever take for granted the life I have now. During those nine months in services I got to know people who were or had been homeless. One was a rough sleeper. She is in drug addiction and shared her story with me. A story that was one of the things that inspired my new book, Forgive Me Not.

She knew I was writing this novel and opened up about her life on the streets. How she used some of the money the public gave her for drugs – to keep her “topped up” to a level that made her existence bearable. The rest was collected to hopefully pay for a Bed & Breakfast each night. She needed £80 for that and didn’t always reach her target. In that case she’d sleep in the doorway of a shop that had CCTV. She felt safer that way.

I saw her recently for the first time in months, back in her usual spot. She gave me a hug. Said she was proud of my book. Asked how I was. Said I looked well. We exchanged the usual banter. I gave her some money. She thanked me profusely. As usual her cheerful, upbeat gratitude and attitude touched me deeply.

It’s easy to dehumanise the homeless – to see these people as them not us. But due to spending many hours in AA – due to all my research – I’ve learnt how any one of us could find ourselves in their situation. The reasons behind homelessness are very varied.

Care leavers, aged 18, with no family in their lives, are an especially vulnerable group. As are Army veterans with PTSD. Plus those in situations of domestic violence or those with other mental health issues. Another friend in treatment was forced to flee an abusive domestic set-up, leaving everything behind. She had no choice but to go into a hostel and start her life again from scratch.

Life-changing events make people vulnerable, if they suffer a trauma such a bereavement that sends them into a depression that means they can’t face work, they can’t pay bills, they don’t  care about themselves or responsibilities any more…

And then there’s addiction. One single incident can trigger a very rapid spiral into homelessness. Say an addict one day loses their job. They can’t pay the rent or mortgage. Finally their family’s had enough of the behaviours that now worsen.  As have friends…

I’m so grateful I hit my rock bottom before reaching the end of the alcoholism spectrum – before I did real damage to other people; before I found myself heading down that spiral. Wine o’clock could have had a far from glamorous ending.

It’s impossible to live in a city – I’m in Manchester – and not be aware of the homelessness tragedy. I stop to give change. Sometimes I have a quick chat. Not all rough sleepers are in addiction but due to my experience I guess it’s not difficult for me to see past the violent, aggressive or anti-social behaviours in the ones that are; to realise that person who might be using to the point of oblivion once had a life like mine with loved ones, mates, a purpose to get up each day – and a place to live. To realise that if they didn’t have all those things, they’ve probably come from a challenging background of mental health issues or neglect.

If you feel you want to improve a rough sleeper’s life in some small way but don’t want to give them money, here is a list of things that would be so useful. Pound shops provide them all cheaply.

Sanitary protection

Vitamin tablets

Deoderant

Socks

Hand wipes

Tissues

Chapstick

Plasters

.

In August 2016 I found myself sitting in an addiction clinic. This will probably be a shock to those who know me. It shocked me too. My drinking had grown from the weekend, to stretch across Thursday and Sunday. Then it was every night, any excuse. It softened a bad review and added sparkle to literary celebrations. But truth be told, the problem had been growing for years, way before I became an author. I suffered from anorexia and bulimia at university and recently my eating issues have returned. The rooms of AA are filled with people who’ve had – or have – eating disorders. The mental issues behind the behaviours are very similar.

Fear and denial kept me away from the doctor. I hadn’t lost my job yet, my family, not all my friends, my house, I wasn’t drinking twenty-four seven, I didn’t end up sleeping on the streets or in prison or sectioned… My problem wasn’t yet obvious.

But certain areas of my life and the mental distress were becoming unmanageable. I couldn’t face life with alcohol. I couldn’t face life without it.

When I finally went to my GP, back in February 2016, it initially proved difficult to get the expert treatment I needed. Eventually a counsellor directed me to the alcohol services for my area and for three months I had outpatient treatment – group therapy – at an addiction clinic where I was treated by hard-talking former addicts. Then I moved to recovery services for a further three months, where I learnt about mindfulness and wellbeing. I gave talks to children in High School about my drinking and eating problems. I trained for another three months to become a peer mentor to young people in addiction.

During those nine months I shared my story and listened to new friends talk about their addiction in the context of work, domestic abuse, prison life and homelessness.

People chat to each other about trying to cut down on unhealthy foods or stopping smoking, but you’ll rarely hear a conversation where one person says they are seriously worried about their alcohol habits – because there is such a stigma attached to regularly drinking too much. And yet many people are and as long as this fear of being truthful about our intake exists, hospital beds will continue to fill with people suffering from alcohol-related illnesses.

Society needs to be talking openly about it.

A considerable part of recovery is making alcoholics aware of the hurt we might have caused others. We won’t get better until we realise that no one is to blame for our drinking but ourselves. We need to face up to the consequences of what we’ve done – and that difficult process is what originally inspired my new novel.

Forgive Me Not isn’t my story. It is made up of characters who go on their own journeys. However it is written completely from the heart. From personal experience I know that saying sorry isn’t always enough.

I’ll never forget going into the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous for the first time. I envisaged there would be old men in dirty macs, sitting on their hands longing for a drink. How wrong I was. It was full of warm, welcoming, happy people of all ages and backgrounds who wanted to share their joy of sobriety. I did the Twelve Step recovery programme with my wonderful sponsor.

AA isn’t for everyone, but it isn’t scary. The thought of going is. And it shouldn’t be. Alcohol abuse is a growing problem, particularly amongst people of my age who buy a bottle of wine to unwind at the end of the day. Society needs to reach a position where people can talk about their drinking habits without the fear of being judged.

I’m still Sam the wife, mum and author, who likes cats and writing and cake. That person, in real life and online, hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s helped no end, the last couple of years, to use social media to talk about the positive aspects of my life, whilst dealing with my demons away from the keyboard. Posting my inspirational memes probably helps me as much as anyone else. It’s only now that I feel strong enough to share my experience. I’ve faced my problem head on and stopped drinking. I’ve made amends where possible and it’s taken a while, but I’ve finally forgiven myself.

I’ve accepted that this is me.

More than ever I love my amazing husband and children whose unquestioning support has been a big part of the reason that I’m now eighteen months sober. I’m full of gratitude for the help given to me by them, friends, AA and professionals.

If any of you reading this are struggling with drink, get help now before things worsen – which they will. Go to your doctor. Speak to a relative or friend. Go to AA – the only qualification needed to attend is that you want to stop drinking but can’t. They won’t take your name or ask for personal details or write anything down. No one will tell you you’re an alcoholic – you’ll decide for yourself by listening to everyone else’s stories and seeing if you can relate to the feelings.

You won’t stand out as different. Alcoholics are ordinary people.

If you are worried about your own intake reach out and tell someone before the wine o’clock everyone jokes about turns into a ticking time bomb.

You may be an alcoholic. You may not.

But if you are, I’m getting better one day at a time.

So can you.