By age 40 I was drinking all day everyday - my world had shrunk to my little 2 room apartment, my recliner chair and my TV...my music career was over - too many drunken gigs - my dwindling social circle was exclusively alcoholic, and my only regular outings were to the liquor store and back.

I'd long let go of any pretense of functionality - everybody in my neighbourhood knew I was a drunk - they saw me stumbling, unwashed, dazed, red eyed, struggling to the bottle shop and back , daily.

I began to fall over frequently - and despite being accomplished at falling 'safely', I was often too drunk to manage this - so I hit my head hard more and more often.

On my last day of drinking, I was already drunk when I caught the bus to the store (walking was not really an option in that state). I missed the last step off the bus...I hit my head on the kerb so hard it bounced...

I got up, held a handkerchief to my bleeding brow...and continued straight into the liquor store.

I remember them bandaging me up..and me insisting I was fine and buying booze. I don't remember getting home, or the rest of that day, but I do remember that night when, even more drunk, I woke up and stumbled into the bathroom...I slipped and hit my head - again - on the corner of the bath.

I lay there on the floor, not able to get up for being drunk, and disorientated, and I knew in that instant with absolute certainty that I was going to die if I kept on this way - no perhaps, no what ifs, no maybes through cirrhosis or other alcohol related conditions...

I knew I was going to fall more and more often...and then once too often...and die.

It was my moment of clarity perhaps. Whatever it was, I have never been more sure of anything.

I felt so disorientated and disconnected I thought for several days it might have already been too late.

In a sense it was I guess - I still carry the physical legacy of that last day. I'd suffered some mini strokes. I've never been the same since - in many ways. A permanent reminder of where I was headed.