Thinking about it, I was probably a mild example. My wife would be there whilst I strode into a supermarket near to closing time to purchase the much needed beers. Whilst that was clearly depressing for her, there is another level even I never reached - the secret drinker.
I never felt the need to keep my drinking a secret, but I can understand those who do. That’s an advanced level of planning involving working out when to drink, where to hide the stash and, of course, where to dispose of the empty bottles and cans.
I thank whoever is up there that I never got to that stage although it was only a matter of time. I read of people hiding bottles in hedges or in cars. I know my brain circuitry has been altered irreversibly by years of drinking, but the act of hiding ones drinking is a shocking demonstration of how twisted our minds can get.