
Alcohol Preference vs. Dependency: You Might Not Be Addicted—You’re Just Running Corrupted Software
By Ian Callaghan | EOM Coach & The Mechanic of the Mind
Let’s get the administrative data out of the way immediately.
If you are looking for the former Liverpool FC midfielder, you are on the wrong server. I am not the man who served Anfield; I am the man who served for 12 years in the British Army and spent 25 years as a Technical Architect in corporate IT.
I don’t deal in nostalgia. I deal in systems.
I executed a “Total System Reset” at age 57. I dropped 5 stone (31kg), pivoted my career, and achieved 100% cessation of alcohol after 45 years of drinking. I did not do this by “healing my inner child” or waiting for the universe to align. I did it by treating my mind like an Operating System (OS) that required a hard reboot.
If you are reading this, you are likely questioning your relationship with alcohol. You are wondering if you have crossed the line from “social lubricant” to “system failure.”
Here is the blunt reality: You might not be an addict. You might simply be a user running a corrupted script.
It is time to stop acting like a “Museum Guide” to your habits—walking around, pointing at old memories, and asking “why.” It is time to become a “Mechanic.” We are going to pop the hood, look for the friction, and debug the process.
The Diagnostic: Distinguishing Hardware Failure (Dependency) from Software Glitches (Preference)
In the world of IT, when a server starts lagging, we don’t immediately assume the hardware is fried. We check the logs. We look for looping scripts. We check for malware.
Yet, in the realm of mental health, men are quick to slap the label “Alcoholic” on themselves the moment they struggle to skip a Friday pint.
This label is dangerous. It suggests a permanent state of brokenness. It suggests that your hardware is faulty and can never run efficiently again.
For the vast majority of men I work with, the hardware is fine. Your brain—the biological processor—is intact. The problem is the software. You have programmed a dependency loop into your daily routine.
Defining Chemical Dependency (Hardware Failure)
Let’s be precise with our terminology. True chemical dependency is a hardware issue. It means the physical architecture of your body has adapted to the presence of ethanol to such a degree that removing it causes system instability.
If you stop drinking and you experience:
- Physical tremors (the shakes).
- Seizures.
- Hallucinations.
- Dangerous spikes in blood pressure.
This is a Hardware Failure. This requires medical intervention. This is not a coaching scenario; this is a paramedic scenario. If this is you, close this browser and seek medical assistance.
Defining Preference and Habit (Software Glitch)
However, if you stop drinking and you experience:
- Irritability.
- Boredom.
- A feeling of “something missing” at 6:00 PM.
- Social anxiety.
- Mental rationalisation (“Just one won’t hurt”).
This is Malware. This is a software glitch.
You are not chemically dependent in the way a heroin user is. You are psychologically habituated. You have written a script called relax_with_drink.exe and set it to auto-run every evening.
The good news? Software can be rewritten. The bad news? You have to be the one to write the new code.
The Loop: How You Programmed the Glitch
To fix the engine, you must understand how it was built.
I spent decades in IT. I understand how legacy systems work. Your drinking habit is essentially “Legacy Code.” It is code you wrote twenty or thirty years ago—perhaps in the mess hall, perhaps at university, perhaps in your first high-stress sales job.
At the time, the code served a function. It reduced latency (stress). It improved interface compatibility (socialising). It provided a quick system flush (relaxation).
The problem is that you are no longer running on that old platform. You are older. Your metabolism has changed. Your responsibilities have changed. But the script is still running in the background, consuming 80% of your CPU.
The Pavlovian Trigger
This is basic input/output logic.
- Trigger (Input): The clock strikes 5:30 PM. Or you hear the “ping” of a closing laptop.
- Routine (Process): You walk to the fridge or the pub. You pour the liquid.
- Reward (Output): The initial dopamine hit. The artificial sense of the shoulders dropping.
Over 10, 20, or 30 years, this neural pathway becomes a superhighway. It is efficient. The brain loves efficiency. It doesn’t care if the output is toxic; it only cares that the process is fast.
When you try to stop, the system throws an error message. It says: “Error 404: Dopamine Source Not Found.”
You interpret this error message as “craving” or “addiction.” A Mechanic interprets it as “System Latency.” The system is waiting for an input that isn’t coming.
The “Museum Guide” vs. “The Mechanic”
This is the core of the Emotional Observation Method (EOM).
Most therapies and counselling modalities train you to be a Museum Guide. They ask you to walk through the halls of your past, looking at the trauma, the stress, and the reasons why you drink.
- “How did it feel when your father shouted?”
- “Let’s explore your relationship with rejection.”
- “Sit with the pain.”
This is inefficient. It keeps you staring at the damage.
Imagine your car has a flat tyre. A Museum Guide stands there and asks the tyre, “How does being flat align with your truth?” A Mechanic gets the jack, removes the lug nuts, and changes the wheel.
We do not ask the engine how it feels. We find the friction, and we fix it.
Stop Identifying with the Data
You are not your thoughts. You are the Administrator of the system observing the data stream.
When the urge to drink arises, the “Addict” says: “I need a drink.”
The “Mechanic” says: “The system is flagging a request for alcohol. Request denied. Rerouting resources.”
Do you see the difference? One implies identity; the other implies distance.
If you believe you are “an addict” (unless you have the hardware failure mentioned above), you are giving away your Admin privileges. You are telling yourself that the malware has root access to your soul. It does not.
The Emotional Observation Method (EOM): The Debugging Protocol
So, how do we fix this without spending five years on a therapist’s couch talking about our feelings?
We use EOM. This is the proprietary methodology I developed to execute my own reset. It is a tool for creating distance between the Stimulus (the urge) and the Response (the action).
Step 1: Visualise the Glitch
When the urge to drink hits you, do not fight it. Fighting creates resistance. Resistance creates heat. Heat crashes the system.
Instead, observe it.
Objectify the emotion. Stop calling it “My thirst.” Start calling it “The Signal.”
Ask yourself these technical questions:
- Where is it located in the chassis? (Is it in the chest? The throat? The stomach?)
- What is its shape? (Is it a jagged rock? A tightening band? A heavy lead ball?)
- What is its colour? (Red? Black? Grey?)
- Is it moving? (Spinning? Pulsing? Static?)
By assigning physical attributes to the urge, you move the processing from the emotional centre of the brain (the Amygdala) to the analytical centre (the Prefrontal Cortex). You are literally shifting the processing load to a different server.
Step 2: The 90-Second Rule
Neuroscience—the schematics of the brain—tells us that a chemical emotion only lasts for about 90 seconds in the bloodstream.
If you feel anger or a craving, the actual chemical dump lasts a minute and a half. Anything felt after that is you choosing to reload the script. You are hitting “Refresh” on the browser.
When the urge hits, look at your watch. Apply the “Wait Command.”
“I acknowledge this signal. I will observe it for 90 seconds. I will not execute the drinking protocol.”
Watch the shape you visualised. Does the red jagged rock turn into a grey pebble? Does the tightening band loosen? It almost always does.
Step 3: Deployment of Counter-Measures
Once you have observed the glitch and waited out the chemical flush, you must deploy a new routine. You cannot leave a vacuum in the code.
If you delete the drink_beer.exe file but don’t replace it, the system will try to restore it from backup.
You need a new SOP (Standard Operating Procedure).
- Cold Water Exposure: This is a non-negotiable in my regimen. Cold water is a hard reset for the nervous system. It forces the body to focus on survival, instantly killing the low-level “whining” for alcohol.
- Movement: Do 20 push-ups. Change the physical state of the machine.
- The Carbonated Diversion: Often, the habit is just the throat hit of carbonation. Sparkling water with lime. It mimics the input without the toxic payload.

The “Functional” Myth: Why Your Performance is Suffering
A common counter-argument I hear from men in the corporate sector:
“But Ian, I’m functional. I perform well at work. I provide for my family. I just like a drink.”
In IT, we have a term for this: Degraded Mode.
A server can still run while it is overheating. It can still process data while 30% of its sectors are corrupted. But it is not running at capacity. It is running on borrowed time.
Alcohol is a depressant. It is a solvent. It is fuel that damages the pistons.
You think you are functional? Try running a diagnostic on your sleep architecture. Alcohol destroys REM sleep. Without REM, you are not defragmenting your hard drive at night. You are waking up with corrupted temporary files every single morning.
You are operating at 60% capacity and calling it success because you haven’t crashed yet. That is not high performance. That is negligence.
The Metabolic Cost
I lost 5 stone (31kg) during my reset. This was not through starvation. This was through metabolic adjustment.
Alcohol pauses your body’s ability to burn fat. The liver—your primary filter—prioritises the removal of the toxin (alcohol) over every other metabolic process.
While your liver is busy scrubbing the ethanol from your blood, your fat burning is offline. If you drink every night, your fat burning is offline every night.
You are wondering why you have the “Dad Bod” or the visceral fat around the organs? It’s not just the calories in the beer. It’s that you have shut down the maintenance protocols of your own body.
Reprogramming the Social Interface
One of the biggest hurdles to distinguishing preference from dependency is the social sector.
Men use alcohol as a networking protocol. It is the bandwidth through which we communicate.
“Let’s grab a pint.”
“Let’s seal the deal over drinks.”
You fear that if you remove the alcohol, you lose the connection. You fear the “Blue Screen of Death” in social situations.
This is a lie.
You do not need ethanol to communicate. In fact, alcohol introduces “packet loss” in conversation. You repeat yourself. You miss nuance. You agree to things you shouldn’t.
The Non-Drinker Protocol
When you enter a social environment (the Pub or the Dinner Party), you need a strong firewall.
1. The First Drink Rule:
Order immediately. Do not hesitate.
“Soda water and fresh lime, pint glass, plenty of ice.”
By having a drink in your hand, you stop the query from others: “Can I get you a drink?”
You look active. You look engaged.
2. The Explanation Script:
Do not offer a long, emotional explanation. Do not say, “I’m trying to find myself.”
Use a technical refusal.
“I’m running a diagnostic on my health.”
“I’ve got a training protocol early tomorrow.”
“I’m off the sauce. Resetting the system.”
Keep it brief. Stoic. Direct. People respect discipline. They get uncomfortable with vulnerability in a pub setting. Be the Mechanic, not the patient.
The 30-Day System Audit: A Challenge
You believe it’s just a preference? You believe you are not dependent?
Prove it.
In the military, we drill. In IT, we run stress tests. We don’t guess; we verify.
I challenge you to a 30-Day System Audit.
For 30 days, total cessation. No “cheat days.” No “wet weekends.”
Why 30 Days?
It takes roughly 30 days to begin rewriting a neural pathway. It takes that long for the liver to clear the backlog and for the sleep architecture to normalise.
If you cannot do 30 days, you have your answer. It is not a preference. It is a dependency.
The Audit Log
During these 30 days, keep a log. Not a diary—a log.
- Day 1-3: Expect system turbulence. Irritability. The “Phantom Limb” syndrome of the hand wanting the glass.
- Day 7: Sleep patterns should start to defragment. Vivid dreams as REM returns.
- Day 14: Metabolic reboot. Bloating reduces. Face looks less like an inflamed tomato.
- Day 21: Cognitive clarity. Processing speed increases. Emotional regulation stabilises.
- Day 30: System Reset complete.
If you reach Day 30, you then have a choice. You have Admin privileges again. You can choose to reinstall the software (drink), or you can choose to keep the system clean.
But you make that choice as the Master of the System, not the slave to the script.
The Truth About “Moderation”
I often get asked about moderation. “Can I just cut down?”
For some, yes. But for the man who has spent 20 years relying on alcohol as his primary coping mechanism, moderation is often more draining than cessation.
Why? Because moderation requires constant processing power.
- “Can I have one tonight?”
- “I had two yesterday, so none today.”
- “Is it a special occasion?”
You are running a background process all day long, calculating the allowance. It uses up RAM. It causes decision fatigue.
Cessation is binary.
Input: Alcohol?
Output: No.
It requires zero processing power. It frees up your bandwidth for things that actually matter—your business, your family, your health, your legacy.
I chose 100% cessation because I am an absolutist. I prefer a clean system to a cluttered one.
The “Why” Doesn’t Matter—The “How” Does
The Museum Guide wants to know why you started drinking heavily. Was it the stress of the divorce? The pressure of the promotion? The culture of the regiment?
Frankly, I don’t care. And neither should you.
Knowing why the server crashed doesn’t bring the website back online. Fixing the code does.
Do not waste years analysing the root cause while the fire is still burning. Put the fire out first. Stop the intake. Stabilise the machine. Once you are sober, clear, and fit, you can look back at the past with the detachment of an observer, not the desperation of a victim.
Case Scenario: The Executive “Winder-Downer”
Let’s look at a specific profile I see constantly.
Subject: Mark, 45. Senior Management.
Routine: High pressure 8:00 AM – 6:00 PM. High cortisol.
The Glitch: hits the door at 6:30 PM. Opens a bottle of wine. “I just need a glass to switch off.”
The Result: The bottle is gone by 9:00 PM. Passes out on the sofa. Wakes up at 3:00 AM with anxiety (The Alcohol Rebound Effect). Drags himself to work. Repeats.
Mark thinks he likes the taste of Merlot. Mark is wrong.
Mark is using a chemical depressant to force a system shutdown because he doesn’t know how to power down manually.
The EOM Fix for Mark:
- Intercept: At 6:25 PM, before entering the house, Mark performs a “Pattern Interrupt.” He stops the car. He does 5 minutes of box breathing. He manually lowers the cortisol.
- Replacement: He enters the house and immediately grabs a jagged, ice-cold sparkling water with lime. The carbonation hits the throat (sensory match).
- Observation: The urge screams. He visualises it as a spinning red disc in his chest. He watches it slow down.
- Result: By 7:00 PM, the urge has passed. He eats dinner. He sleeps properly.
Mark didn’t need the wine. He needed a transition protocol between Work Mode and Home Mode. He was using a sledgehammer to turn off a light switch.
Conclusion: Reclaiming the Command Console
You are the Architect of your own life. But for too long, you have been letting a rogue script run the show.
It doesn’t matter if you call it “addiction,” “dependency,” or “bad habit.” Those are just labels. What matters is the output.
Is the output of your life optimised? Are you lean, sharp, reliable, and calm? Or are you bloated, slow, reactive, and tired?
If it is the latter, you need a System Reset.
Stop acting like a Museum Guide to your own decline. Stop romanticising the “good old days” in the pub.
Become the Mechanic.
- Acknowledge the glitch.
- Observe the signal without engaging (EOM).
- Rewrite the SOP.
- Execute the protocol with military discipline.
I did it at 57. I rewired 45 years of spaghetti code. You can do it too.
It is time to debug your life.
About the Author
Ian Callaghan is the creator of the Emotional Observation Method (EOM) and a specialist in sobriety and midlife transformation. A former British Army soldier and IT Technical Architect, Ian applies “Total System Reset” principles to help men regain control of their mental and physical hardware. He is not the Liverpool FC footballer, though he approaches his coaching with the same level of professional discipline.
Ready to run a diagnostic? Take the Archetype Quiz or download the EOM Manual.
Appendix: The Mechanic’s Glossary
To effectively implement the Regimented Reset, you must update your vocabulary. We do not use the soft language of the therapy room. We use the precise language of the server room.
- The Glitch: A sudden, irrational urge to engage in a destructive habit. Not a “craving,” but a system error.
- Latency: The sluggish feeling in the brain caused by hangovers or withdrawal.
- Packet Loss: The memory gaps and lack of focus caused by alcohol consumption.
- SOP (Standard Operating Procedure): A pre-written rule for a specific situation. e.g., “The Friday Night SOP.”
- Root Access: The deepest level of control in your mind. Do not give alcohol Root Access.
- Defragging: Deep, restorative REM sleep.
- The Firewall: Your boundaries and ability to say “No” without explanation.
Advanced Tactics: Dealing with “The User Error” (Relapse)
In the software world, bugs happen. In the recovery world, slips happen. We do not call this a “moral failing.” We call it a User Error.
If you slip and have a drink, do not spiral. Do not let the “Addict” voice take over and say, “Well, I’ve blown it now, may as well finish the bottle.”
That is catastrophic logic.
If you trip on a step, you do not throw yourself down the rest of the flight of stairs. You catch yourself, you assess the damage, and you keep climbing.
The Post-Incident Review (PIR)
If a slip occurs, the Mechanic conducts a PIR.
- What was the trigger? (Stress? Celebration? Boredom?)
- Where did the SOP fail? (Did you not have an alternative drink ready? Did you not visualise the urge?)
- What is the patch? (How do we modify the code so this specific bug doesn’t crash the system again?)
We analyse. We patch. We redeploy.
The Cold Water Protocol: Your Hardware Reset Button
I cannot overstate the importance of Cold Water Swimming or Cold Showers in this process.
When you are trapped in a loop of overthinking—obsessing about whether to drink or not—you are stuck in your head. You need to be forced back into your body.
Cold water is a shock to the system. It triggers the mammalian dive reflex. It floods the brain with norepinephrine. It is an instant, biological “Clear Cache” command.
You cannot think about a glass of wine when you are in 5-degree water. You can only think about breathing.
It builds Resilience. It teaches you that you can be uncomfortable and still survive. If you can handle the freeze, you can handle the urge for a pint.
Make it part of your daily boot-up sequence.
Final Directives
- Stop labelling yourself. You are not broken. You are glitching.
- Start observing. Use EOM to detach the feeling from the action.
- Get disciplined. Motivation is fleeting. Discipline is consistent.
- Execute the Reset.
The command console is waiting. Log in.

The Emotional Operating System: User’s Manual (Digital Edition)
Stop analysing the crash. Fix the code. An 8-page field guide to debugging your own mind. Includes the 4-Step EOM Protocol, the Symbol Library, and the Emergency Reboot scripts. Bonus: Includes access to the interactive Digital Console.