I woke up in A&E and couldn’t remember how I had got there. It was 3am and I was plastered in my own vomit. I was absolutely disgusted with myself. I vowed never to drink again. I have stuck to that promise. That was the defining moment: I finally accepted, in April 2011, that I have no off-switch when it comes to alcohol. If I continued to drink, it could finish me off.

I started drinking aged 13, drinking excessively was just what my group did. Most weekends, my friends and I would head up to the school grounds with bottles of wine and alcopops and drink until we were completely out of it. I was often sick, but it was part of being a teenager – it all felt normal.

As I grew older, the pub became my second home. I spent my days playing pool and drinking pints with the lads, and the cultural messages all reinforced the normality of my behaviour. I never questioned it, even downing 10 pints in an afternoon. I always drank to get drunk, right from my early teens I was the one who wanted to continue the party, to get one more drink in.

I can pinpoint the time when I began to drink more regularly on my own. I was 27, divorced and lonely. I never reached the stage where I was drinking during the day, but I did rely on booze. I looked forward to the evenings because I knew wine would be on the agenda.

I had low-level hangovers most days, and suffered badly from anxiety attacks. I existed in a mildly depressive state, and achieved little in my career and personal life. I was incapable of thinking lucidly, lurching from one bad choice to another. I also suffered from terribly low self-esteem because I was regularly acting in a way that later, when sober, made me ashamed and embarrassed.

I never allowed my drinking to prevent me going to work, or getting up and going for a run, or from running a house properly and paying the mortgage – I think a lot of people who drink too much but who are in denial are exceptional at hiding it and ensuring their lives remain intact, at least to those looking in from the outside.

I don’t like to use the label 'alcoholic' as I think it has such negative connotations and reinforces the hypocritical attitude we have in our society about 'responsible' drinking and ‘alcoholic’ drinking. How does anyone know if they are ‘an alcoholic’? For me, ‘alcohol dependent’ is a more helpful term.

I think if your relationship with alcohol is unhealthy then deep down, you know. It’s a case of being honest, and taking a leap of faith that life might be better without alcohol. I launched the website Soberistas.com because the help available didn’t resonate.

I wanted to create something that I would have wanted when I first quit drinking – it’s online and anonymous, it’s non-religious, it’s non-prescriptive, and it allows people to explore their relationship with alcohol in a non-judgmental way. The site has brought together thousands of inspirational people, mostly women but not exclusively, from all over the world. It’s made me realise that I’m not alone in once having had such a destructive relationship with alcohol, and the feelings of strength found in this kind of community are immense.

We live in such an 'alcogenic' society, we are brainwashed from childhood into thinking that drinking alcohol is normal – even getting drunk is frequently glamourised. In order to stop drinking and feel happy about being sober, it’s vital that we brainwash ourselves the other way, to reverse the process. To quit drinking you need to throwing yourself into a replacement activity to fill the void. You need to focus on building a life that doesn’t revolve around alcohol.

Lucy Rocca was talking to Francesca Street

Soberistas.com