Where to begin? I suppose it has to be the day I moved from Stevenage to Deal in Kent (which is near the port of Dover) back in September 2001. Before I relay to you my journey that led me to the Haven, I must point out that this is in no way an exhaustive account of all the contributing factors that led me here but will certainly include all the major ones that did so, within the last four years. There have been many incidents prior to this but I think recent times have seen the culmination of years and years of a troubled life.
I had been working for a major food manufacturing company in Biggleswade as a Quality Assurance Manager (QAM), which in summary, is a food safety and legality position. My Company approached me and offered me the position as QAM for the yet to be built manufacturing plant in Kent. The new plant was, and still is, the most sophisticated prepared salads factory in Europe, costing well in excess of £25m to build. Not only was it an honour to be asked to head up what is considered the most difficult department in food manufacturing, and for a Company Flagship factory, but it was also testament to all the hours of hard work and effort that I had relentlessly given. I jumped at the chance and after much planning I moved to Kent to stay in a hotel until I could find a place to live. My girlfriend of seven years, Sara, was delighted with my progress but was also fearful that this was the beginning of the end of our relationship.
Once I had settled into my hotel (which was 50 yards from the beach) I began to concentrate on the job in hand. However, there were several people from the same Company staying in the hotel and the only thing to do in the evening, other than staying in your room, was to head for the hotel bar or the nearest pub. As the Company were paying for us to be there it was invariably the hotel bar we ended up in. All our food and drink was being paid for and naturally there was a degree of over indulgence, mostly, I have to admit, on my part. My bar bill for one week came to £525!! I thought I would be in serious trouble for this oversight but to my amazement it was not even mentioned. I had always been a fairly heavy drinker but this was like giving a child a set of keys to Toys 'R' Us!!
Things continued like this for some time and at weekends I would return to Stevenage to see Sara, my family and my friends, or occasionally Sara would come to Kent. Then in November of 2001 the first real devastating event happened. It was a Friday and I was waiting for my new company car to be delivered. I was all set to return to Stevenage for the weekend. I had been hearing on the radio and from colleagues that a major accident had occurred on the M25 and the hold up in all directions was at least seven hours. "Oh bother," I thought (if you can believe that!). I phoned Sara and said I would stay in Kent on Friday but would leave first thing Saturday morning. After much gentle persuasion Sara agreed that this was the best thing to do.
My new car arrived. A lovely burgundy Renault Laguna with 19 miles on the clock. A brand new car. After work I decided to have a few drinks and then retire for an early night. Long drive ahead and all that. My sensible streak was in control. After a few drinks my sensible streak had had enough and walked out on me and in walked my self-destruct streak (who bought several more drinks!).
Sara phoned me, very upset that I was not coming home. I decided that the hold up on the M25 would be bearable by now so I packed my bags and got into my new car and set off for Stevenage. I had gone no more than ten miles when it happened. I was doing about 60mph when out of nowhere a bend came up that I had not anticipated. The truth is I had driven on that particular stretch of road a hundred times before but never in a pissed state. Too late!! The bend was in front of me. I slammed on the brakes but the car just continued straight ahead in a skidding motion. All I could see in front of me was a massive roundabout, the type that has black and white brickwork around it, and a fairly large island with trees in the middle. When I came to a halt there were trees in my new car!! Both air bags had been activated. A tree stump had come right through the bottom of the car and I had a few leaves and branches on my lap. Everything seemed to stand still for a moment until it had dawned on me what had happened.
My first thought once the dust had settled was "oh Jesus, what have I done?" I got out of the car to assess the rest of the damage. I could not believe it. Not one part of the car had escaped without damage. I shrugged my shoulders and decided to get out of there before any one saw me (my self destruct streak in all its glory).
I went to get my bag (and my treasured bottle of wine which was on the passenger side floor). As I stood up I saw the blue lights flashing and two Policemen coming towards me. They had been sitting in their patrol car not 50 yards from the scene, having a McDonalds. I suddenly felt hungry.
I spent the night in the cells and when I returned to the scene in the morning I looked at the mileage on the car. It read 28miles. Short life for such a nice car!
I received a two-year ban, a £500 fine and one year's community service for that night that I allowed alcohol to get the upper hand.
I was also severely reprimanded by my employers. The last employee to act in a similar fashion was dismissed. I received a written warning. I hope the last employee never finds that out, and I?m sure the senior executives must have started to question their decision.
Sara finally found a job in Kent and timed her move to coincide with the moving in date of the house that I had purchased. I won?t go into reasons why the house was purchased solely in my name. This is about my journey and it would be unfair of me to include anybody else's details.
Things seemed to be going well for Sara and me. Alcohol, as ever, played far to big a role in my life. I was continuing to drink excessively and occasionally would use Cocaine as well. Sara did both too but not to the degree that I did. After a time I felt that things weren't right between Sara and me and after much soul searching decided that I wanted to split up. I think women are far more perceptive about relationships than men are because Sara had said that she felt this was the beginning of the end for us. She was right and to this day I will never understand how she knew.
So began the second devastating experience. Me and Sara splitting up. Seven years is a long time and we were, by this time, engaged. Sara moved back to Stevenage and got her old job back as an accountant. She behaved like such a lady through it all that I felt like a horrible nasty bastard. She never once got angry. I wish she had done, if only to help justify my actions but she never did.
I was so low that I thought a holiday on my own would be a good way to cheer myself up. I searched Teletext and finally booked a week long holiday. I choose San Antonio in Ibiza!! Smart move. I woke up on my second day in Ibiza miles from my hotel, lying in the dirt, facing a wall with over £300 in my wallet. What a way to start a cheer-you-up holiday. How I wasn't robbed is beyond me. By day three, I was ready to come home, feeling I had made a mistake. I called home and my sister Alice informed me that my Dad had had a mild stroke. She insisted that there was little I could do and I should stay in Ibiza and try to enjoy the rest of my holiday. I relented and stayed in Ibiza. I found out where the 'Lucky Boys' (dealers) operated and suffice is to say that I spent over £1500 in one week. On my own!! When I returned to England I really started to hit the bottle and my work began to suffer. I was so wrapped up in 'me and my problems' that I became a different person. I had been diagnosed with depression many years ago and now it was back with a vengeance.
Depression = Alcohol; Alcohol = Depression; I really don't know. They just blurred into one. 'Despair'.
I was now living in the house in Kent on my own and really began to understand loneliness and what it can do to a person. After a great deal of thought I felt I had made the wrong decision and contacted Sara and asked would she come back. After many tearful conversations and meetings she agreed. Sara moved back and things went really well. But only for a while. As time passed I began to realise the real reason why I had asked Sara to come back. I feared loneliness. I told Sara that I was wrong and did think splitting up was best. I was putting Sara through the same heartache as last time. I felt a hundred times worse than before. It was the hardest thing I have ever had to go through. To hurt someone that much and not mean it. Once again Sara moved back to Stevenage and, once again, behaved like a lady throughout. To this day she is still one of the most remarkable people I have ever known. I did not feel that way about myself. A deep self-loathing started to manifest itself (which had always been lurking around anyway) and that could only lead to one thing. The bottle.
Sara had been gone for a week or so when I was sitting at my desk at work one day when my phone rang. It was Sara. "Have you spoken to any of your family recently" she asked. "No. I am not really in the mood to talk to anyone after the last couple of weeks" was my reply. Sara started to cry and pleaded with me to phone my family. I knew something was very wrong but nothing could have prepared me for what was to follow. I phoned my sister Jeanette. She was crying as she told me that my Dad had suddenly died last night. I do not need to go into detail about the effect that that had on my family and me. In two weeks I had lost two people I loved very much, for very different reasons. Needless to say this was another life changing experience.
We buried Dad and I returned to Kent, alone, to try and continue as normally as possible. Things got progressively worse drink and depression wise. I was drinking more than ever and slowly but surely was slipping into a much deeper depression than I had ever experienced. Then I had what some might call a reprieve. I met a woman called Barbara. We went out together for 6 months or so and it was great. I started to feel like myself again. Confident, on track, good at my job and the owner of a lovely home of which I was very proud. Barbara and I decided to take a holiday so we booked a week in Tunisia. We set off when the time came but had to fly from Manchester due to reasons beyond our control. Deal to Manchester is a seven-hour drive but it did not matter because we were on holiday. The holiday was great and the time came to head back home to reality. At the airport I started to feel quite ill. Barbara thought I was putting it on but as my condition worsened she became increasingly more concerned. Our flight had been delayed and by now I was very ill. Barbara found the airport medics and they decided I had contracted a stomach bug. "No shit Sherlock"! I thought. They insisted on injecting me with liquid paracetamol before they would allow me to fly. By now my temperature had risen to 104F. We arrived at Manchester and had to drive for seven hours back to Deal. It turned out I had Salmonella poisoning. Lots of people get food poisoning but in my chosen career it is extremely serious. I had six weeks off work waiting for results that would decide whether I was a carrier or not. If the results had been positive, then the career that I had spent ten years building up would be over in an instant.
The results were negative but the overall outcome was not. Barbara left because I had again slipped into self-pity, which resulted in the usual misuse of the 'good stuff'. My workload had increased ten fold in what was an already extremely stressful job.
Then, a devastating blow. I had been working on an exclusive project, which had never been attempted by any fresh produce company due to its complex nature. I spent six months on the project and finally cracked it. The launch date for the product was imminent. I was drinking heavily one Saturday night when the following day I was called in to work unexpectedly to assist with the final stages of preparation for the launch. I had been through the process a thousand times with the relevant managers. The NPD Manager (who was new and a right !!!!!!!), called me in because she had 'a problem'. When she explained what her problem was I totally flipped and called her a name, which I will not reprint. Lots of factory operatives were present and heard everything. In my profession, you do not speak to an Executive member of staff the way I did, let alone in front of factory ops. She scuttled off, crying, and phoned my manager. I was drunk and should not have been on site. Needless to say I was suspended and eventually dismissed for gross misconduct. The career I had worked so diligently at was over and it had nothing to do with food poisoning. It was my own doing and it was caused by alcohol abuse.
Again, I was alone in the house and jobless. New depths of depression set in which became all consuming. I was at my lowest point ever. It was then that I first attempted to harm myself. I took some pills. Not enough to do any real damage. I think if a person really decides on suicide then they will carry it through. Some say it was a cry for help, which I don't disagree with. Stupid thing is I went to the hospital alone and did not tell anyone. I could not even make a cry for help successfully.
I had to find another job. So I did. I was driving again and was put in touch with a fruit grower in Canterbury. They had no vacancies so I presented them with my CV and left. The following day they asked me to attend an interview. I was told that they did not want to miss the opportunity of an interview after seeing my CV. A good CV can work wonders!! I attended the interview and was offered a position as QA Manager. They had been planning to recruit a QA Manager at some point and my CV had reached them at an opportune moment. I started work and felt good considering so many set backs I had experienced lately.
Unsurprisingly, the euphoria did not last. I went to a party one Friday at work and got hammered. I mean really hammered. I stayed overnight and carried on drinking the next morning. Drunk, I decided to drive home but after two hundred yards or so realised I was incapable of driving so I pulled into a lay by. I pulled in through a no entry sign, coasted along the kerb and stalled. I climbed in the back seat and lay down to sleep it off I was awakened by a Policeman tapping loudly on the window. Someone had seen me entering a no entry sign and hit the kerb. Nicked again. This time I spent all weekend in the cells because I was rather cheeky to the Charge Sergeant. I went to court on the Monday and was banned immediately until the hearing. I had been driving again for only about seven weeks.
This time I knew I was in real trouble. I was found guilty of being four times over the legal limit and sentencing was postponed for a pre sentence report. I was facing a custodial sentence and was advised by my Brief to pack some essentials because a custodial sentence was a real possibility. After seeing a Psychiatrist and a probation officer a lengthy pre sentence report was compiled. The report kept me out of prison because it clearly stated that prison would not be the right place for me. I was given a further four year ban, £600 fine and one year's probation. It was the second scariest day of my life. I am what you might call a law-abiding citizen and here I was, facing prison. Thank God it didn?t happen. Oh, and naturally I lost my job again.
I can't begin to explain how low I was feeling. I was heavily in debt, with no job, no car, away from my family and no partner. And of course, I was drinking heavily. And using Cocaine.
I spoke to and old colleague who offered me a job in Oxfordshire as a QAM (I have been very fortunate in finding work.) I had to move very quickly from Kent to Oxfordshire. I managed it in two weeks. My house in Kent had a loft conversion but the previous owner had not obtained planning permission for it. This left me with a real problem. I could not let my house out through an agent unless I made renovations to the loft conversion. "Yeah, right" I thought. I was struggling to pay the bloody mortgage on my own, let alone spend thousands on renovations. I had to let it out on a private basis. Big risk but no choice.
I had a friend look after my house until he eventually found some people to move in. I moved into a beautiful apartment overlooking a fantastic lake in a town called Whitney and started work in my new job. I knew only one person in Oxfordshire and he lived several miles away in another town, was married and had four children, so he was not allowed out to play as often as I would have liked The Company I was working for was tiny. About forty employees. I had been used to working in factories with six hundred plus employees. As a consequence I had little or no social life so I would return to my apartment each evening alone. I had a few halfhearted flings with women but I was very lonely and uncomfortable. I continued to drink too much but I was not using Cocaine. The drinking became worse. I would go on binges at weekends that could last four or five days. I was really letting my friend at work down and myself. By now I was a wreck. I was not coping well with any aspect of my life. I started to receive letters from creditors chasing debts. Lots of debts. I had managed to secure a job for my friend in Kent who was due to move into the spare room in the apartment. He moved up and started work. He lasted two weeks. I came home and found a letter saying he missed home. He couldn't even tell me face to face. Daniel is still a good friend but I wish he could have let me know he was going back to Kent without just taking off.
It was around this time that I began to notice some strange markings start to appear on my body. At first they were confined to just my knees and elbows but as time passed they slowly became more widespread. I did not know what they were and never really gave them much thought.
I continued with my probation (because I had to) and started to see a counsellor. She was absolutely stunning and I found it difficult to concentrate on the sessions (she really was beautiful). I stopped seeing her for that reason.
Then I had what I can only describe as the most frightening night of my life. I was on a bender. When I decided enough was enough and stopped drinking I experienced for the first time, and hopefully the last, Delirium Tremors. I can't find words to fully explain the fear I felt that night but I genuinely believed I was dying. I could not talk properly. I was having waking nightmares so graphic and evil that I phoned a taxi and went to the emergency ward. It was closed. I came home and phoned an emergency Doctor who managed to get me through the night. In the morning, having missed another day at work I started to clear up. This was a Tuesday morning and I had started drinking on Saturday evening. I counted the bottles. 13 bottles of wine, 2 bottles of Jack Daniels and a bottle of Whisky. Was I trying to kill myself?? Probably.
By now the marks on my body had become more of a problem so I decided to seek medical advice. It turned out to be Psoriasis. And it was serious. My whole body from neck to toe was completely covered in what appeared to be white I silvery scaly dry skin. I was sent to a skin specialist who confirmed it was a moderate to severe case. I felt like a freak. I remember several times standing in front of the mirror and crying at my appearance. Not out of pity but out of frustration. It was hugely uncomfortable and I had to cover myself in cream from head to foot twice a day which I loathed.
It was then that I decided I had to return to Stevenage to be near my family and friends.
I gave my notice to my employer and moved back to Stevenage with the help of a woman I had met on one of my visits home.
I moved in with my sister Alice, her husband Adam, their baby daughter Flora and of course my Mum. I will talk some more about my family a little later because each and every one of them have been incredible.
My relationship with my new girlfriend started to flourish (so I thought) much to the consternation of family and friends. I moved into her house and took a job in a warehouse. It was a soul destroying experience and one which I detested. But I needed an income. The creditors were barking at my heels and to top it all the tenants in my house had trashed it and left without paying rent, leaving me in serious trouble. The upshot was that my house that I loved was being repossessed.
After seeing a Chinese Herbalist about my Psoriasis, I was prescribed a concoction of twigs and mushrooms and the like which was to be made into a tea and drank twice a day. I drank it, twice a day for two months, and felt physically sick every time I did so but my Psoriasis slowly began to abate. At last, something was working.
We continued our relationship. The three of us. Myself, my new girlfriend and alcohol. I received a call from an agent I had used previously asking me would I attend an interview for a Technical Mangers position in Nazeing, Essex. I had nothing to lose so attended the interview and was offered the job immediately. My CV seemed to have worked its magic once again!
I started my new job which was the fifth job in four years. Things were going well. Then in March 2005 an event took place with which I have yet to come to terms with and am not sure if I ever will.
My girlfriend and I had been drinking quite heavily one weekend and one thing led to another and an argument ensued. I do not want to go into detail about what followed except to say that there was a violent confrontation between us which resulted in the Police being called to a domestic incident. Nicked again!! This time the Police had guns. Why?? I was handcuffed and put in the squad car to be carted of to the station to face the music. I asked the police, whilst I was in the back of the squad car, why they were armed. The reply was that they were the only unit available. "Ok" I thought, so I asked if I could have a look at one of their guns. I don?t think it went down too well but I was scared, ashamed, and in pain. I thought it might help to break the tension. It didn't.
I appeared at Court to face two charges of common assault and one of criminal damage. It is the first time in my life that I have been charged with a violent crime. It is also the last time I will ever be charged with violence. I was advised to plead not guilty and am awaiting the case to be heard in September.
I was now homeless. My sister Sandra and her husband Ted let me stay with them until I found a place to rent.
I managed to hold on to my job in Nazeing and found a place to rent in Hertford. I lasted two months before the net finally closed in. I lost my job again through alcohol and was once again alone, in a flat, in Hertford. I could not pay my rent so I had to give my notice to the landlord. I was now officially homeless. My brother in law Ted picked me up from Hertford on 26th May 2005 and, with my sister Sandra, we headed to the big blue door that is The Haven.
I had gone from owning my own home, having a fantastic job, a great relationship and enough money to enjoy life, to having nothing, losing my Father and am in the process of declaring myself bankrupt. I have lost all that is important to me through my inability to control my use of alcohol. Since moving to Kent four years ago mine has been something of a peripatetic existence. I have had 9 different addresses and have moved my personal belongings over 20 times, eight times in one year alone. I am so tired of it.
Alcohol has been the carrot - and I the Donkey. In more ways than one.
It is as this point that I would like to add some things that must be said.
Firstly, my Family. I have tested my Family most of my adult life to the point where many others would have turned their backs. They have all been close I'm sure. I now truly understand the meaning of unconditional love and cannot begin to explain the love I feel for all of them. All of them!
Secondly, The Haven. Through all that has happened so far I still consider myself fortunate. Fortunate that I did not kill anyone when I had the crash in Kent. I still thank God for that. Fortunate that I have a family that are irreplaceable. Fortunate that I am still alive. And fortunate that I am now at The Haven. To be surrounded by so many good people who care so much is a circumstance that few people in this life can say they have been privy to. The Haven staff work miracles on what must be a daily basis.
People handle life situations in different ways. The situations and events I have experienced over my life to date may seem, to some, rather trivial. They may, to others, seem to be hugely difficult to rise above. Regardless of other peoples perceptions they are all contributing factors that have led me to where I am today and I do not wish things had been different. This path must have reason to it and I'm sure that in time it will become very clear to me exactly what that reason is.
I will not waste any more time dwelling on the past. I cannot change it. I can but learn from it. My journey will have a second stage but as yet that has not even begun to unfold.
Finally, I would like to share some lyrics to a song that I sing in my head on a daily basis.
"I'm gonna clear out my head. I'm gonna get my self straight. I know it's never to late, to make a brand new start" Brand New Start - Paul Weller
Eamonn