“For the first time in my life, I’m not addicted to anything.”

    “For the first time in my life, I’m not addicted to anything.”I never thought I’d be able to say that. But here I am—16 months sober, feeling fitter than I did in my 20s. I’ve moved closer to my sister, our relationship is better than ever, and I help her out by walking her dogs. It might sound like a small thing, but for me, it’s huge.

“My problems stem back to when I lost my mother.”

I grew up in Newport and had always enjoyed drinking socially with my mates. But everything changed when my mum died of breast cancer. I was 19. My dad was grieving, and I just couldn’t deal with it. I didn’t know how.

Drinking became more than just a way to have fun—it became a way to numb myself. Over the years, I told myself I had it under control. It was always there in the background, but I managed. Until Christmas Eve 2015, when I found my dad dead. That broke me.

“Lockdown made everything feel like a struggle.”

Seventeen months ago, I hit rock bottom. The lowest I’ve ever been. I was completely isolated, lonely, and trapped. Lockdown made everything worse. My mental health spiraled, and I knew I needed help. I reached out to MIND, but like so many services at the time, they were stretched thin. I ended up on a waiting list with only limited telephone support.

I knew I couldn’t go on like this. Lockdown gave me an opportunity—a reason to change. The pubs were closed, so I stayed in for two months and decided to face my emotions sober for the first time.

“I’d go to bed drinking, wishing I wouldn’t wake up.”

For 15 years, I was on Diazepam and antidepressants. I’d go to bed drunk, take my tablets, and hope I wouldn’t wake up. When I quit drinking, the withdrawal was brutal. Two months of hell. Vivid dreams about my parents, like my subconscious was finally forcing me to process all the grief I’d been running from.

But I got through it. And for the first time in my life, I’m not addicted to anything.

“I even have hopes for the future now.”

That was something I never thought I’d say. But it’s true. I love animals, and with the help of Cyfle Cymru, I started volunteering at All Creatures Great and Small. Being around animals eases my anxiety. I still have bad days, of course, but I’m learning how to cope in a healthier way.

January 2021 was a turning point. I reached out to my work coach at the Job Centre, and they signposted me to Cyfle Cymru. That’s where I met Hollie, my Mental Health Peer Mentor. She gave me regular one-on-one support, and alongside that, I had CBT therapy through my GP and bereavement counselling with CRUSE.

For the first time in years, I didn’t feel completely alone. I started making small changes—getting up in the morning, grabbing a Greggs roll and a coffee. It sounds simple, but those little things made a difference. I even made new friends, people I now see regularly.

“She changed my perspective on life.”

I’ve had difficult relationships in the past—mostly with women who, like me, struggled with alcohol. But then I met Dawn. She was different. She helped me so much in my recovery, changed the way I saw the world.

When she passed away from COVID last August, I was devastated. It took me a while to come to terms with losing her, but I knew what she would have wanted for me. I could hear her voice in my head, telling me not to fall apart, not to throw away everything I’d worked so hard for. Even after she was gone, she was still helping me. I’ll never forget that.

“Reach out for support, make small changes, and you won’t look back.”

If you’re struggling—fighting a war in your mind, trying to escape the past—booze won’t fix it. It never does. But people can help. Take small steps. One at a time. It might not feel like much at first, but those little changes? They add up. And one day, you’ll look back and realize you’re not the same person anymore.

You’re stronger.