Why should I trust them? - Ed's Recovery story - 08/06/2023

“I’ve not had it as bad as lots of homeless people. I managed to avoid much of the chaos, the abuse, and the people in that community who are only out for themselves. I became homeless after I witnessed a violent crime. I was living in Moss Side in Manchester when gangsters and drugs were running riot. I was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. The people responsible knew I was a witness, and the police knew there was a witness, though they didn’t know it was me. What else could I do?

I was caught between a rock and a hard place, so grabbed my emergency cash and my sleeping bag, and set off traveling down the country to Cornwall. I’d seen how badly homeless people in Manchester were treated, and knew the dangers they faced. To me, a secluded beach seemed a sensible option; a place I could remove myself from society and disappear.

I pitched up on a beach with a tarpaulin for shelter. I had an open fire, a big pot to boil water, and a freshwater stream nearby. Day to day, the only people I saw were dog walkers after their dogs had come over to say hello. Initially, the lifestyle was great, but as the weather turned, I was just permanently cold, so headed into the town, and soon decided to move back up North, as I was missing friends and family.

I can clearly remember one morning, not long before I left. I had been sleeping in a beach hut and was just packing up to move on. I looked out into the sea, and saw about forty dolphins in Penzance harbour, feasting on fish, bobbing about in the water and dancing in the early morning light. The sun was rising. It was a magical moment. And then I heard the tap tap of a lady’s high heels coming near, as she walked by on her way to work. I caught her attention, and she started for a moment, but I reassured her I didn’t want anything and just pointed out the sight. She paused to take it in, before getting on her way. The next day she came by again and gave me a £10 note, saying I should get some breakfast at a beach cafe. A kind gesture, but at that moment, I was angry at the World, and my situation. Somebody being kind shattered my picture of myself as invisible, and unworthy. Back then I found it hard to accept help.

Once I moved North again, I was living a more typical homeless existence - a negative cycle of sleeping rough, and drinking. But I rescued a dog, who soon became my bodyguard and my best friend. My dog would always eat before I did, and I’d go hungry to make sure my dog didn’t go without. Having a dog meant many accommodation options wouldn’t accept me, and there was no way I was giving up the friendship and companionship my dog gave me.

But then I heard that the Salvation Army had a policy of allowing one dog per floor of the building, so we moved in there together. That’s where I started to rebuild my life and moderate my drinking. Their policy was no drinking in your room, and if you arrived at the accommodation clearly under the influence, you’d have to stay outside for a few hours to sober up. I managed to get myself relatively sober and started to look at other accommodation options.

I found some semi-supported accommodation where dogs were allowed, and went to visit - it looked great! I applied for support from Shelter, and was allocated a really proactive support worker, who was fully focused on helping me to get to where I wanted to be. I’d lost all of my ID over the years, so had no birth certificate or bank account. They helped with all of that, and even helped me to sort a passport, as my son was living abroad at the time.

I saw that Shelter were delivering courses at their drop-in; cookery, English, and IT classes, among other things. I started to volunteer, setting up the IT classes, getting laptops ready, and sorting teas and coffees. But in the back of my mind there was still a nagging doubt.

Why should I trust them? 

But then I realised: why should they trust me? So I just went with it. I’ve now been volunteering with Shelter for 7 years. I’ve even been Father Christmas for them, and believe me that was hard work!

I’m happy to say that I’ve been sober for five years, with a couple of small lapses, but nothing serious. Now, abstinence is my motto. I know I may slip up, but I know that today’s not the day. Not for me. I take my recovery day by day. I’m rebuilding relationships, and starting to really appreciate what matters. That’s family, not money. After 20 years of being out of touch with my daughter, we got back in contact just before lockdown. I’m treasuring every moment.

If I had to give advice to someone who was struggling with alcohol addiction I’d say that the thought of having a drink is always better than actually having one. I’ve spent far too long standing at the bar drinking alone. Stop chasing memories of what life used to be like. I realised that I had to change my acquaintances if I wanted to get sober, but to be honest, as soon as I got sober, they didn’t want anything to do with me, because I wasn’t ‘fun’ anymore. 

Life now has no drama or chaos. There are no crazy high peaks followed by awful low troughs. I’m flatlining through later life, and that’s OK with me.”

 

As told to Help us Help, June 2023