Jane Hawkes, 44, lives in Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, with her husband, Andrew, 44, and Labradoodle, Barney.
On New Year’s Day 2013, I forced myself out of bed, head pounding and feeling sick, with a sinking dread lodged in my stomach as I thought back to the night before in my local pub.
I’d been so drunk, the landlady told me she wasn’t serving me any more, and I cringed with shame.
‘Never again!’ I said to my husband, Andrew, then 38. I’d been saying the same thing every New Year’s Day for 20 years – only, this time, I meant it.
Later, I called the landlady to apologise, so mortified by my drunken antics I wondered how I’d ever show my face in there again, and as if the humiliation of…
