Recently, my 13-year-old daughter was asked by a teacher to imagine the advice that an 18-year-old her would give to her current self. She sighed and said, “What a bloody waste of time,” before producing a fantastic list that could, if put into practice, help her to get out of certain stuck-in-a-rut situations. 

In this, my penultimate column, I want to talk about things I have learned in the past couple of years. My list reminds me of the things I need to remember in order to stay relatively sane.

• It doesn’t really matter what addiction is called. A disease, illness, weak will or choice? Opinion hasn’t altered how I have lived with somebody else’s alcoholism. Naming can be useful if you need help, but it shouldn’t define a person. I don’t want to be known as “the woman married to the alcoholic” and my husband doesn’t want to be known simply as “the alcoholic”.

• People only change if they want to. I am powerless over my husband’s drinking. Every time I try to control him, I ask myself this: have I ever changed my behaviour simply because he’s asked me to? All the tactics – from tipping booze down the sink, to pointing him in the direction of rehab – have been a waste of energy. It’s a shame that Sting had to write these lyrics, but they are true: “If you love somebody, set them free.”

• Look at yourself before you criticise others. Most people are hypocrites, but that’s OK. I recognise that when I accuse my husband of being a hideous, grumpy old git, I can behave – at times – like a hideous, grumpy old git.

• Live in the present and stop regretting what once was but will probably never be again. Gone are the days when my husband and I were young, drunk and rubbish at adult life (in a fun way). This sometimes makes me sad and sentimental. But then life is full of much sadder, harsher realities for many people.

• If you’re finding life hard, get help. When I realised I couldn’t cope with my husband’s alcoholism, I went to Al-Anon. I almost talked myself out of a first meeting, fearing cold church halls, lukewarm tea, and the mention of God. But now I draw strength from the support I’ve received and the people I’ve met.

• Most people have some sort of addiction – active or dormant. I am addicted to lots of things: food, relationships, the lives of others as seen through Twitter. Recognise your weaknesses and try to talk about them with friends.

• Compare and be forever miserable.

• Avoid so-called-friends who, when they listen to you, say “Me too” all the time. These people will not make you feel better.

• Remember, children are resilient, but arguing in front of them regularly, staying in a loveless or bad relationship for the sake of them, or trying to keep anything that is painful a secret – means they’ll inevitably pay for it later.

• Progress not perfection. How long did I struggle with trying to live life the other way around?

• Make your anger productive. If not, it turns into resentment, and resentment is bad for your looks, and your health.

• Be brave about the small things: open your bank statements, call the doctor, face the people you’ve pissed off. Running away will not simply make the problem disappear.

• Demanding absolute trust from a recovering alcoholic will only make you feel disappointed and tired. Besides, can anyone (including yourself) be trusted all of the time?

• You don’t have to always be all right. People who are always all right are usually quite insane.

• You can change your mind. I said I’d never get back with my husband while he was still drinking, but now we’re together again despite the fact that he sometimes drinks. This is why grand ultimatums, unless you mean them, are pointless.

• Sex, a walk, a long bath, chips, daytime naps, a favourite book, dancing, the cinema. Keep revisiting the things you enjoy. Maintain a level of self-care and kindness when life is going well and you’ll feel stronger when times are harder.

• Too many aphorisms kill the message. I realise that this is starting to read like an inspirational greeting card, so I’ll stop.