For much of his life, Paul Cooley used alcohol and drugs to hide how he felt.

Shy and quiet as a child, he first started drinking as a teenager because it seemed to give him confidence. What began as a way to feel included with friends gradually became years of alcohol and drug dependency, damaging his mental health, relationships, finances and sense of self.

Today, Paul is in recovery, has completed treatment with Aspire New Beginnings in Doncaster, and is using his lived experience as a peer mentor to support others taking their own first steps.

“I was always a proper shy kid,” Paul says. “I didn’t dare talk to anyone. I didn’t really associate with people.”

At around 13, he began spending time with a group of friends. A bottle of cider at the weekend made him feel different.

“I just found this confidence all of a sudden. I became loud,” he says. “At the time, I thought it was the real me, but obviously it wasn’t.“

When social drinking became something else

As Paul grew older, weekends began to revolve around alcohol, pubs and clubs. It felt exciting at first, particularly after spending his younger years feeling unable to mix easily with other people.

But alcohol soon stopped being confined to weekends.

“I’d work Tuesday to Friday, get the money in, and all that money was for going out at the weekend,” Paul says. “Then, when I got home from work, I’d have a two-litre bottle of cider every night.”

Paul began working in painting and decorating straight after leaving school. Although he became good at the job, he says he felt unhappy and trapped in a career he had not chosen for himself.

“I absolutely hated it, every day getting up to go to it,” he says. “When I started with phet before going to work, that would get me through the day. It masked all that hatred for the job.”

As he moved through his teens and into adulthood, alcohol was joined by other substances. There were acid trips, cannabis, “whizz”, ecstasy and amphetamine.

What had started as social use became daily use.

“I ended up doing E’s and phet all day long, every day,” he says. “At first, it was like it was just getting me through the day.”

For Paul, amphetamine did not feel like it was making him more energetic. Instead, he says it seemed to quiet his mind and help him feel temporarily settled.

“It seemed to relax me more. It kept me on an even keel with drink,” he says.

Over time, he got used to functioning while using substances. He could eat, sleep and work, which made it easier to believe he was coping.

But underneath that, his addiction was taking hold.

Isolation, blackouts and mental-health crisis

As friends began settling into relationships, work and family life, Paul increasingly felt left behind. While others appeared to be moving forward, he found himself drinking and using alone.

“I kept looking around thinking, ‘Why is there only me like this?’” he says. “I’d end up going out on my own, down to a pub or whatever.”

Alcohol also changed his behaviour. Paul says he became violent when he drank and experienced blackouts, waking up unable to remember what had happened.

“Someone would tell me I’d been scrapping with somebody,” he says. “I couldn’t remember.”

The consequences became more serious. Paul experienced severe paranoia and psychosis associated with his substance use, and was admitted to hospital.

“I had all these demons after me,” he says. “It was so real to me. I ended up in hospital and they sedated me for a few days.”

There were times when Paul’s safety was at risk. Looking back, he recognises how frightening and dangerous that period of his life had become.

Bereavement added to the pain. Following the death of his mum, Paul received an inheritance, but says addiction meant it disappeared quickly.

“I went through it in no time,” he says. “A couple of years after my mum had gone, it’s just blank.”

Recovery begins with asking for help

Paul had tried to stop using before. He had managed periods of a few weeks without substances, but says he had always returned to them. The difference this time was accepting support.

That was not easy initially. When he was offered treatment and group support, Paul felt unable to take part.

“I thought, ‘I’m not walking in that group,’” he says. “I thought I was too good for that. But that was me masking it. I was scared to go.”

He had assumptions about groups and worried he would be judged or pressured to speak. But when he eventually attended the Structured Day Programme at Aspire New Beginnings, he found a very different environment.

“I just sat there listening,” Paul says. “You had a choice. If you wanted to talk, you could. If you didn’t, you didn’t have to.”

The lack of judgement made a difference.

“You don’t know each other, but you’ve got an idea of where each other has been, and there’s no judgement.”

Paul says he settled into the programme quickly after detox. Being around people with similar experiences gave him a feeling he had not expected: that he was not alone.

“When you’re using drugs and alcohol, you think you’re alone in it,” he says. “Then you realise there are other people like you.”

Recovery is not always linear

Paul completed detox and the Structured Day Programme and then spent 15 months in recovery. However, he later relapsed for around 12 weeks.

He is open about this because he wants others to understand that a relapse does not have to mean the end of recovery.

“It was a bad relapse,” Paul says. “But Aspire got me back through pretty quick.”

Paul returned to treatment and completed the programme for a second time. With distance, he says he can see that he needed it.

“I needed it again,” he says. “I didn’t think that at the time, obviously, but I say it now because it gave me a chance to learn even more and become what I am now.”

The contrast between recovery and relapse helped him understand what he had gained.

“During that relapse, some of it scared me,” he says. “It was the hatred I had for myself showing. But I’d learned to love myself a bit through the previous programme. I knew there was a life there. I’d experienced a proper good life.”

Honesty, family and community

Paul says recovery has taught him the value of honesty - with himself and with the people who care about him.

“Sometimes you can tell a lie, take a bomb of phet and feel all right,” he says. “But it’s just not the same as being sober and telling the truth. When you’re in addiction, you’re hiding it all the time.”

His recovery has been supported by family, including his former partner Belinda, her husband Steve and his two sons. When Paul entered detox, Belinda and Steve cared for his dog and supported him practically. He says his family have given him something invaluable: support without judgement, alongside clear boundaries and a commitment to honesty.

“They’ve never judged me,” Paul says. “The only thing they ask for is for me to be honest with them.”

He knows he can call his family if he is struggling rather than hide it.

“It’s knowing you can ring them,” he says. “You don’t have to hide it from them.”

Paul recognises that not everyone in recovery has family support, and does not take his own support network for granted.

“I look at myself as though I’ve been very lucky,” he says. “If my family had had nothing to do with me, it could have been a different ball game.”

The fake confidence

Paul believes that, particularly for men, addiction can sometimes be hidden behind the appearance of confidence.

In a group of friends, one person might appear outgoing after drinking or taking drugs, while privately feeling anxious, isolated or unable to talk about how they really feel.

“You might have five mates, and one of them might lack confidence and need that bit of a drink,” he says. “You might not know they need that. You only know them when you’re out together and having a drink, so that person looks confident. They’ve got this front on.”

But away from the group, that person may feel very different.

“They might go home and be a different person. They might be shy and quiet,” Paul says. “Then they keep drinking, start drinking at home, and before you know it, you’re halfway down the road in addiction.”

Paul says he grew up in an era when many men were taught to keep difficult feelings to themselves.

“If you cried, you’d get told to get over it,” he says. “If you said you were feeling depressed, it was, ‘Get up, get out and do this.’”

He believes things are improving, but says people need to go beyond a quick “Are you okay?” and make space for an honest answer.

“Ask and ask again,” he says. “‘Are you okay? No - are you okay?’”

He adds: “A couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have talked. I’d have said, ‘I know it all.’ But that was just my mask.”

Giving back

Paul is now a peer mentor at Aspire. He has completed shadowing and is exploring a role supporting others on their recovery journey.

Helping others is an important part of maintaining his own recovery.

“What keeps me going is being able to help somebody knowing that I’ve tried and maybe been able to help someone.”

He does not see himself as someone who can rescue another person from addiction. Instead, he hopes his presence can offer an important sign that change is possible.

“I don’t think you can do it for people,” Paul says. “But you can give them belief that it is possible. Someone might think, ‘He’s been through it - look at him.’ That’s a ray of hope and evidence that they’re not on their own.”

His message for anyone who is struggling is straightforward:

“There is light at the end of the tunnel, it is possible. But it’s not easy. Use the support that’s there and talk.”

Support is available

If alcohol or drugs are affecting your life, support is available. You do not have to feel ready to share everything at once, and you do not have to face it alone.

For some people, the first step may simply be making a call, attending an appointment, or sitting quietly in a group until they feel ready to speak. Recovery can begin with knowing that other people understand - and that there is no judgement in asking for help.

This story is based on Paul’s personal experience of substance use and recovery. Everyone’s experience is different. Paul has shared his story in the hope that it may encourage others to seek support.