Darren was raised in Maidstone, Kent. He was the eldest of five brothers and sisters and also had three half siblings, so it was always a busy household. Even then, Darren knew he was different to his brothers and the other boys at school. He didn’t like the rough and tumble of the school playground, and wasn’t interested in playing football. He didn’t know why, but he was more comfortable hanging around with the girls.
“When I started secondary school in 1990, I was beginning to figure out that – maybe – I was gay. It was scary: no-one, especially a child, wants to be the ‘other’. And back then, the AIDS epidemic was in full swing, and the government had brought in Section 28, banning the ‘promotion of homosexuality’, a few years earlier. I’d grown up during a media backlash against gay people, and as a result, I ‘knew’ that being gay was wrong.”
The bullying started when kids in school either picked up on Darren’s anxiousness or figured out he was gay. There were a couple of beatings, but most of it was verbal, which turned out to be even worse: snide, insidious comments that really got to him.
He hid his sexuality from his family for years – there was just no way he could tell them.
“I could barely admit it to myself, let alone close family. After all, if I was treated that way when I wasn’t even out, how much worse could it be if I came out?”
Eventually, Darren finished school and went to college, which he enjoyed. Although he still hadn’t come out, people seemed to know, and it wasn’t a problem. And that was where he discovered alcohol. It was an environment where it seemed everyone was always up for having a good time. Darren went to the pub every lunch break and any other opportunity, and after he’d had a drink, everyone seemed less judgemental. Between 1995 and 1997, he spent most of his time in pubs and night clubs, and at illegal raves.
Darren’s life took a big turn when he was 19. He’d been working for Barclays Bank for a few years, doing data entry, and had gone full time after finishing college. Shortly after this, his dad became very ill with cancer, and Darren moved back home to help out. The first job he got was in a pub. It meant he was around alcohol all the time, and with his dad in a very bad way, and none of his family knowing about his sexuality, Darren found his place: somewhere he could drink all day, leading a superficially fun lifestyle, to forget the pressure at home.
Alcohol soon took over every part of his life.
“I just wanted to drink all the time, and if I wasn’t at work, I was in a pub or down at the nightclub. I began losing friends, and I wasn’t there for my parents; I wasn’t able to take my dad to hospital appointments because I was either drunk, or too hungover to drive. But even though I could see what was happening, I knew I wasn’t ready to give up that lifestyle.”
Things went downhill after his dad passed away. Darren, now aged 30, left home and went to work in Kavos, where he spent the whole time drinking.
“Ibegan moving from job to job – I’d start feeling uncomfortable, thinking that if I moved I could start again, maybe try drinking at weekends only. Of course, I was fooling myself: anyone in addiction knows that managing your intake of alcohol or drugs is impossible.”
After ten years of this, Darren hit rock bottom. He didn’t know where to turn, or how he’d managed to make such a mess of his life. He’d look up old friends on social media and see they had high-flying jobs, while he was hugging the toilet bowl at 6.30 every morning, throwing up bile between sips from half a bottle of vodka.
“I didn’t know who I was anymore. I’d become an angry, bitter, twisted human being that wasn’t really living – just barely existing. I was a broken man, and knew I couldn’t go on.”
So, on his 40th birthday, after he’d just been discharged from hospital following a binge, Darren walked into The Forward Trust’s Dover hub.
“It’s a scary thing, asking for help. I was 40 years old and thought I shouldn’t have to need help with anything. And it wouldn’t just mean giving up the drink: I’d be giving up my home and job as well. But I made my way to Forward, circled the block a couple of times, nipped into the pub for a drink to calm my nerves, then walked into the hub and put my hands up. And that’s where my recovery journey started.”
As soon as he arrived, the practitioner Darren spoke to, Steve, seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. Steve conducted a formal assessment, but it felt more like a conversation and Darren got the sense that he really wanted to help him; that it wasn’t just his job and he wasn’t just a number. It was the first time Darren had been open with himself, let alone another person.
“It was scary, but cathartic, with so much relief that I’d finally told someone what was going on, and they were willing to help me.”
Steve suggested Darren should start a weekly alcohol group programme at Forward’s Dover hub, which was where he met others who going through similar things. They talked about losing sensation in their fingertips – he hadn’t felt his fingertips for years – forgetfulness, dizziness, aches and pains; everything resonated with his experience. The recognition in others of his own mental and physical health made Darren feel less isolated. He quickly realised that he could learn from those people who were in the same boat as him, so Darren stuck with the programme and attended every Tuesday morning.
After this, Darren’s key worker recommended he do Forward’s Dover Day Programme, a 13-week full-time programme, with only the weekends off. He was a reluctant at first, as it seemed a huge commitment: nearly four months of the same people, in the same room, every day – and without a drink! But when he listened to people’s stories – people from all walks of life – Darren realised they all had so much in common. He decided to give recovery 110%.
“The Dover Day Programme prepared me for the outside world – without it, remaining sober would have been 100 times more difficult. But it also challenged me to look at myself and my prejudices. In my addiction, I was very argumentative, but it encouraged me to think about things differently. I am so thankful for that, because I’m now in a wonderful job working for Forward and I’ve got a lovely house. None of that would have been possible without Forward’s intervention, help and support.”
By February 2020, Darren was ready to live independently, and started looking for a permanent job. He was able to continue facilitating some Forward Connect meetings after they moved online, and started volunteering on a phone service, checking in on local older people, which he loved. He later applied for a job with Forward as an Assertive Outreach trainee, and found out he’d got it two days before Christmas.
Darren started working for Forward in February 2021, and he loves it. His role involves reengaging people who may dropped off their methadone or Buprenorphine scripts.
“The staff are amazing, and chatting to clients every day and hearing their stories is very fulfilling. During my addiction, I never dreamed that having a nice home and a normal life without drink would be possible – I didn’t think I was worthy of it. Now, I wake up every day with a smile, because I love my job so much: it doesn’t feel like work. I couldn’t be happier.”
Life outside work is great too. Darren is still in touch with friends from the Day Programme, one of whom also started working for Forward the same day as him, so they’re in contact daily. He can go and visit friends and family without being preoccupied about where the next drink is coming from.
Darren also co-hosts a LGBT recovery meeting. It came about after he did a share at a recovery meeting, where he talked about how he’s still coming to terms with his sexuality, as well as accepting it in others: many people are brought up to think that being gay is wrong, which can take a long time to unlearn.
The group has really taken off: they have members from Canada, New Zealand, and the USA, and a WhatsApp group that is always buzzing. Thanks to these connections from around the world, Darren can get support whenever he needs it.
“I have formed more genuine friendships in recovery than I did in 20 years of active addiction. My advice to others is ask for help: it’s really hard when you’re in active addiction, but getting guidance as to your next step is so important. And if one thing doesn’t work out for you, keep trying. When you find something that works, stick with it: you can live your best life.”
