Daniel Wright glanced at the clock at the bottom of his computer screen. It was 5pm. He said goodbye to a colleague, closed his laptop lid and made the short walk from his home office to the fridge.
He turned on some music and sat alone. One lager turned into two, two turned into ten. It was just an average Tuesday. By the time the night was over, his table was full of empty cans.
“I was depressed,” the 36-year-old, who lives in Urmston, told the Manchester Evening News. “I didn’t have any joy or anything as a result of the drink. I just wasn’t getting any happiness from life. I was just drinking.”
