I’ve been thinking about my time in rehab and my best friend Liam. ❤️
Liam was an Irish fella, and he was lovely. We’d become close during our time in rehab, and we were both approaching a point where we had to decide what came next.
We had a choice. We could go back to London, where we both still had our flats, or we could stay in Luton and try to build a different life.
I chose to stay in Luton.
Liam went back to London.
Shortly afterwards, Liam died.
He had alcohol-induced epilepsy and suffered a head injury. We never knew exactly what happened. Had he suffered an epileptic seizure and banged his head, or had he been drinking and fallen? I never found out.
But I lost my best friend.
And I’ve been thinking about those two choices.
Sliding doors. Two people. The same crossroads. Two different paths.
I stayed. Liam went back.
I lived. He died.
I’m not saying that going back to London caused Liam’s death or that staying in Luton saved me. Life isn’t that straightforward, and I’ll never know what might have happened if we’d made different choices.
But there’s something about recovery that I’ve never forgotten.
Getting sober is one thing. Building a life in which you can stay sober is another.
You can spend time in rehab, get your head together, start to feel hopeful and begin to imagine a different future.
Then you leave.
And what happens next?
Do you go back to the same flat, the same streets, the same people, the same routines and the same circumstances that surrounded you when your addiction was at its worst?
Because you might have changed inside, but the world you’re returning to might not have changed at all.
It’s easy to fall back into familiar patterns, back into the life you knew, and back towards the very things you went into rehab to escape.
Recovery doesn’t magically protect you from your past just because you’ve completed a programme.
Sometimes, you have to make difficult decisions about what comes next.
Where you live. Who you spend time with. What you return to. What you leave behind.
You can’t predict the future, but you can look honestly at your past and ask yourself whether going back to the way things were is really going to give you a different outcome.
Sometimes, moving forward means having the courage not to go back.
There’s something else about Liam’s story that matters to me.
Long-term heavy drinking can cause serious damage to the brain and nervous system. Alcohol-related seizures, cognitive difficulties and nutritional deficiencies can have devastating consequences.
We talk about addiction destroying relationships, families, careers and lives, but we don’t always talk about the damage happening inside someone’s body.
Getting sober is an enormous achievement, but stopping drinking doesn’t automatically undo the harm that has already been done.
I wish more people understood that.
Liam had his own history, too. He’d grown up in an institution in Ireland, raised by the Christian Brothers. We know there is a terrible history of abuse in some of those institutions, although I can’t speak for everything Liam personally experienced.
He was a person with a life and a history, not simply someone who struggled with alcohol.
He was my mate. My best friend in rehab.
And I wish he’d had the chance to live the rest of his life.
I’ve recently discovered that a documentary was filmed while we were in rehab. They followed us for weeks, and I’ve been told that someone who remembers me from those days appears in it, too.
I’m going to find that old tape and get it digitised.
I might get to see Liam again, all these years later.
I know it could be difficult to watch, but I’d like to remember him as he was when we were together.
Because there’s something poignant about looking back at the people who shared a part of our journey and realising that some of them never got to see what came next.
I wish Liam had been here to see my life unfold.
I wish my brother had been here, too.
There are people we lose along the way whom we would give anything to have beside us again. People we want to tell about our lives, our struggles, our achievements and all the things that have happened since we last saw them.
I can’t change what happened to Liam. I can’t go back and take the other road. But I can remember him, honour the friendship we had, and carry that part of my life with me.
We don’t get to see the road we didn’t take. We can only make the best decisions we can with what we know at the time.
And sometimes, when we look back, we realise just how precious the opportunity to keep going really is.
❤️** Recovery isn’t just about getting sober. It’s about having the chance to build a life beyond addiction, and about remembering the people who walked beside us along the way**.