• READ MORE: Lisa Snowdon reveals she's in a 'new chapter of her life' at 54 after 'splitting' from fiancé George Smart - and details having 'wine rages' and 'panic attacks' as she battled through the menopause
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When Lisa Snowdon, 54, recently admitted to feeling like 'the devil' after a few drinks, I was reminded of a Jekyll and Hyde version of myself I'm not particularly proud of.

I've never had the longest fuse, but about four years ago, aged 46, I morphed into a terrible drunk on wine.

Once I'd passed the three-glass mark, I very easily became a caricature of myself at my angriest.

My rage was like a rising tide of fury that came out of nowhere - like a thermometer with the mercury steadily creeping up until it exploded, usually out of my mouth in a wild tirade.

Often this happened during a conversation at the pub - woe betide anyone whose politics or even taste in music differed from mine.

But the example that really sticks in my mind happened when my husband and I got off the bus after a big night out.

I had my house keys looped through my fingers like a weapon, just as women are taught to do when we're out by ourselves. All my husband did was dare to ask me what I was doing.

Instead of just saying, 'Oh, you know, force of habit, I always get my keys ready when I get the bus by myself at night', I let loose with a shouty rant about how men just don't understand the calculations women make to ensure we're safe every time we leave the house.

It all ended with me bursting into tears. To be honest, I stand by all the points I made, but my husband really didn't deserve such an earful.

'When Lisa Snowdon said that after a few drinks, she suddenly started feeling like 'the devil', I knew exactly what she meant,' writes Georgia Lewis (pictured)

Sometimes, watching the news after a few glasses of wine was enough to set me off on the sofa. Again, it was my husband who had to try and steer me towards some much-needed perspective.

Along with the wine rage, I was experiencing physical symptoms after too many glasses. The perimenopausal hot flushes started when I was 45, but if I added alcohol to the mix, they were awful.

I'd start to feel really warm deep in my chest and it definitely got worse as any furious emotions heightened.

Then I'd start to hyperventilate. The combination of body heat, sweat, rage and panic-stricken breathing became enough of a pattern that I started to recognise it.

I'd take action by stepping outside, regardless of the weather, before I burst into tears or said something I'd live to regret.

One really cold winter night, I found myself getting warmer and warmer - and irrationally annoyed by a humourless barman - so I walked out of the pub and stripped down to my T-shirt.

People in big coats and woolly hats were staring at me as the top half of my body was dressed more for Lanzarote than London.

Looking back, I can't have been the easiest person to live with. Fortunately, the outbursts of wine rage didn't threaten my marriage.

My understanding and patient husband is very good at calming me down and simply letting me cool off, but I can easily see why wine rage is a genuine relationship killer.

As rumours swirl around about whether Lisa Snowdon is still with her fiancé, I hope her experiences with wine rage haven't cast a shadow over their relationship.

'You feel like a thermometer with the mercury steadily creeping up until it explodes, usually out of your mouth in a wild tirade,' admitted Georgia (pictured)

And just as Lisa has said she only drinks alcohol when the occasion calls for it, I was forced to rethink my relationship with wine.

As well as the rage, I can relate to her accounts of not only feeling angry, but a sense of being groggy and heavy with disrupted sleep patterns.

For me, it was a perfect storm of perimenopausal symptoms, reduced tolerance of alcohol and anxiety that galvanised me into action.

I made an appointment with my GP and soon I was on HRT patches, which were life-changing. Within a week, all the symptoms were improving, but it was a gastritis diagnosis three years ago that really changed my relationship with alcohol for the better.

I'm by no means a teetotaller, but the regular sessions of four or five glasses of wine have ended.

If I do feel as if the Kraken is awakening while I'm simply trying to enjoy myself at the pub, I'll drink water and remove myself from the situation.

With the gastritis diagnosis, drinks that are high in acid are no longer my friend, so I am more mindful not only about how much I drink, but what I drink. Heavy, acidic wines have been replaced by merlot, malbec and grenache.

I hope I'm a better person to be around these days.

It makes a huge difference to be able to go out without worrying about a Jekyll-and-Hyde moment triggered by the slightest thing.

I'm so much calmer that I might even smile through your views on politics or music, and simply enjoy my merlot.