“I have a choice about when I start drinking. But once I start, I don’t have a choice about when I stop.” For many years, that sentence described the private reality of Thoby Solheim’s life while his professional life told a very different story.

At the time, Solheim was a successful investment banker working with some of the world’s largest institutional investors. From the outside, everything looked exactly as it should for a high-performing leader in global finance.

Yet behind the scenes, something was slipping out of control.

Today, Solheim speaks about that period openly. After leaving banking, he retrained as an executive coach and now works with leaders navigating pressure, identity, and performance. His perspective on leadership is shaped not only by years inside the financial industry but also by his own experience with alcohol addiction.

“We still have a level of shame about alcoholism,” he says. “We moralize it.” That shame often prevents leaders from speaking about what they are going through — even when they know something is wrong.

Success and silence

Solheim began his career in the mid-1990s as an equity sales trader in London, a world defined by long hours, intense competition, and relentless expectations.

“You worked hard, you worked long hours, you got up early,” he recalls. “And then you had at least two nights a week of socializing and drinking.”

Alcohol was woven into the rhythm of the industry. Deals were celebrated with drinks. Lost opportunities were softened with drinks. Success and disappointment triggered the same ritual.

“We would win a deal, we would celebrate, and go big. We’d lose a deal, we’d commiserate and go big.”

Over time, both outcomes started to produce the same thought. “Oh, I did so well today — I’ll have a drink. Oh, I didn’t do well today — I’ll have a drink.”

For Solheim, alcohol also served another purpose. As an extrovert with a hint of introversion working in an intensely social profession, it helped him loosen up in situations that demanded constant networking and relationship building.

But gradually something changed. Drinking stopped being casual. It became intentional. That realization led to a darker understanding: the moment drinking began, control disappeared.

The illusion of the high-functioning leader

Despite his growing dependence, Solheim’s career continued to advance.

He eventually became head of trading at Portuguese investment bank Banco BPI and later worked with Macquarie Group in South Africa. His professional performance remained strong. His reputation remained intact.

Externally, he appeared to be thriving. Internally, however, the dynamic was becoming more fragile. Solheim describes himself during that period as what many would call a high-functioning alcoholic — someone whose outward success masked an escalating personal struggle. “Often people realize their problem long before the system notices,” he says.

Leaders in positions of authority are rarely confronted directly about risky behavior. Performance can mask warning signs, and power often creates distance between the individual and honest feedback.

“From the outside, everything can look successful,” Solheim says. “The system is reasonably blissfully unaware.” Eventually, however, the effects begin to surface. Substance abuse gradually weakens the very capabilities leaders rely on most: judgment, impulse control, and emotional regulation under pressure.

The pressure behind ambition

Looking back, Solheim believes there is often a deeper connection between ambition and vulnerability.

“In the drive for high performance, maybe there is a sacrifice on the other side,” he reflects. For many leaders, that sacrifice can involve mental health. “There can be a link between anxiety and self-worth,” he says. “And that can become exposed in highly competitive environments.”

Research increasingly supports this observation. Studies show a strong relationship between anxiety disorders and alcohol misuse. Anxiety increases the likelihood of alcohol dependency, while alcohol use can intensify anxiety over time.

Alcohol can also act as a signal that the workday is over. High achievers often compress recovery into short bursts of intense decompression — what Solheim describes as accelerated “me time.”

“Alcohol was a medicator that helped tone down excitement,” he says.