As a child, I was quiet and withdrawn, due to the things that happened to me when I was younger. I kept to myself, shy and reserved, until the day I discovered alcohol. When I reached the age where I looked old enough to drink, I did. The euphoria it brought me was like nothing I had ever experienced. It was as if a switch flipped inside me, and for the first time, I felt like I could come out of my shell.
But that euphoria was fleeting, and soon I found myself chasing it relentlessly. What started as a way to escape turned into a dangerous spiral. I drank to recapture that feeling, but it always eluded me. The more I drank, the further I fell. Eventually, I found myself on the brink of death more times than I care to remember.
It took hitting rock bottom and the support of many caring people—like those at Next Step and Royal Perth Hospital—for me to start turning my life around. Their help gave me the strength to fight my way back, and for that, I am eternally grateful.
My journey eventually led me to St Bart’s, but it wasn’t an easy path. Living on the streets was a daily battle, especially against the elements. I slept rough for a very long 12 months. Staying warm and dry became my primary concern. When you’re wet, there’s no way to get warm, no matter how hard you try. I remember one rainy day when I took refuge at a bus stop, cold and soaking wet. It was sheer luck that the team from Harry Hunters (Salvation Army) drove by and saw me. They picked me up, and that’s how I ended up at St Bart’s.
St Bart’s became a lifeline, offering me stability and a chance to rebuild my life. Having a safe place to stay allowed me to focus on things that took my mind off my problems—walking in nature, painting, and sculpting. I’ve been painting for over 40 years, but only when I find peace within myself. For me, art is a way to get lost and find solace. It’s something I taught myself, a way to quiet my mind and let creativity flow.
The support I received at St Bart’s went beyond providing a roof over my head. When I struggle with depression, they are there for me. My caseworker, Mic, visits me, drives me to my hospital appointments, and makes sure I have what I need to keep moving forward.
Today, I’m in a better place, though I still face challenges. When life gets tough, I’ve learned to take a step back, make myself a couple of sandwiches, and head out to the bush. I sit on a little stool with my camera and umbrella, immersing myself in the stillness of nature. Out there, in the quiet, I find moments of peace, capturing wildlife with my camera, and reconnecting with the world in a way that soothes my soul.
St Bart’s has been more than just a shelter—it’s been a foundation for my recovery, a place where I could rebuild my life and rediscover the things that bring me joy. My journey is far from over, but with the support of places like St Bart’s, I know I’m on the right path.
St Bart’s acknowledges the traditional custodians of the land that we live and work on, the Whadjuk people of the Noongar nation. We are privileged to work with, and alongside, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people and we pay our respects to Elders past, present and encourage those who are emerging as leaders.
St Bart’s is committed to diversity and inclusion in all its forms. We welcome and support the health and wellbeing of all people, regardless of background, age, ethnicity, religion and gender identity.