A Journey Through Alcoholism, Work, and Recovery
This is a story about falling apart — and finding purpose again.
7–13 July 2025 marks Alcohol Awareness Week, and this year’s theme — alcohol and work — invites us to explore how alcohol affects our professional lives, mental health, and wider wellbeing.
At Jimmy’s, we see the impact of alcohol up close — but we also witness the power of recovery, the importance of second chances, and the value of lived experience in rebuilding lives.
This week, we’re sharing the story of one of our Housing Support Workers — a person who lost their job at Jimmy’s due to alcohol use, experienced homelessness, and fought their way back to sobriety and a meaningful career in support work.
This is a story about falling apart — and finding purpose again.
As part of Alcohol Awareness Week 2025, we’re highlighting the very real and complex ways alcohol can impact lives — and the powerful stories of recovery and resilience that can follow. This year’s theme, “Understanding Alcohol and Work,” invites us to look beyond the surface, to the deeper stories behind addiction, homelessness, and healing.
In this candid interview, one of our Housing Support Workers shares his deeply personal journey — from being supported by Jimmy’s, to being dismissed due to alcohol use, to returning years later as a vital member of our team.
“My job is to build trust. That relationship is everything.”
Can you tell us about your role as a Housing Support Worker at Jimmy’s?
My role is all about helping people prepare to move into independent living. When someone arrives at Jimmy’s, they often have complex needs — from physical and mental health challenges to a lack of support systems. Most of us have something stable in our lives to hold onto. The people we support often don’t.
So I focus on building trust. That relationship is everything. Some days are deeply rewarding — like when someone moves on. But others are emotionally exhausting, especially when someone relapses or disengages. It’s a rollercoaster, and compassion fatigue is very real.
“I didn’t come to this work in a straight line.”
What inspired you to get into this field?
I spent 18 years in the motor trade, but it never felt meaningful. I went to university at 34 thinking I might become a teacher — and while studying, I started working in support roles. That opened doors into the homelessness sector.
I worked with Centre 33, then joined the Street Outreach Team, working with young people who didn’t fit anywhere. I was driving people to interviews in Bury St Edmunds and Lowestoft — deeply invested in helping them get a fresh start.
But while I was helping others, my own life was falling apart. I was sofa-surfing, working shifts, and silently unravelling.
“I was dismissed from Jimmy’s because of drinking. It broke me.
How did alcohol affect your life during that time?
My drinking spiralled after a breakup in 2012. By 2014, I was still functioning — but barely. I was dismissed from my job at Jimmy’s due to drinking. I actually went into the disciplinary meeting after two glasses of red wine, thinking I was untouchable.
That was my Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels moment — everything collapsing. I became homeless and ended up rough sleeping. Eventually, I was placed in temporary housing in Haverhill, which felt like exile — but it turned out to be my turning point.
“Rehab gave me tools. AA gave me truth.”
How did recovery begin for you?
In 2016, I started attending AA meetings in Bury St Edmunds and then went to rehab in Weston-Super-Mare for four months. That programme gave me structure, tools — and most importantly, honesty. I immersed myself in the 12 steps and started to rebuild my life.
By 2018, I had a stable home again. I kept going to meetings. I kept showing up.
“Sometimes I say, ‘I’ve been there too.’ That changes everything.”
How has your lived experience shaped how you support others?
My past gives me credibility — and empathy. I don’t always share my story, but when the moment’s right, I do. People usually say, “I thought so.” They can tell. It’s a different kind of understanding.
A friend’s brother once told me he’d watched how I was in the community, and that’s what made him try AA. That meant a lot.
But I also recognise that many people I support don’t have a stable past to draw strength from. That’s where the real challenge lies — helping them believe a better future is still possible.
“Now I’m back at Jimmy’s — stronger, sober, and grounded.”
What was it like returning to Jimmy’s as a staff member?
In 2020, I started working for CGL as an outreach worker. A year later, I got a call from Jimmy’s about a role — and I applied.
It must have been strange for some of my ex-colleagues to see me come back, after everything that happened. But they were kind. Professional. Quietly supportive. That meant the world.
Now I work 36 hours a week, supporting 12 residents. I try to see the person — not just the behaviours. This job reminds me where I’ve been. And it reminds me where I never want to go again.
“We do not regret the past, nor wish to shut the door on it.”
What keeps you going today?
I’ve been sober for nine years. I still attend AA. I reflect often. My past doesn’t retraumatise me — it keeps me grounded. It keeps me honest.
In AA we say: “We do not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it.” That’s exactly how I feel.
💬 A Message for Alcohol Awareness Week 2025
If you’re struggling with alcohol, especially if it’s affecting your work, your wellbeing, or your relationships — you are not alone.
Recovery is possible. It’s hard. It’s not linear. But it’s absolutely worth it.
If you’ve made it through and feel called to help others, do it when you’re truly ready — not before. This work can challenge you. But it will also give you purpose, connection, and the privilege of walking beside someone else on their journey.
📚 Learn More