15 May 2025
It’s Mental Health Awareness Week, and this year’s theme – community – is particularly important to us at FirstPort. We recently spoke with Sean, a Development Manager in Essex, to hear about his journey from serving in the British Army to rebuilding his life after he’d hung up his uniform. You can read his full story below.
When I left the British Army in 2017 (after nine years of service), I didn’t expect my hardest battles to come after I’d hung my uniform up.
At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing by looking for something new but transitioning into civilian life was not anything like I could have possibly imagined. The support was there on paper, but not in practice. I didn’t know how to write a CV, didn’t have a clear career path, and no one really told me how to rebuild a life after spending most of my adult years in uniform and serving my country.
The confusion quickly turned into stress, putting growing pressure on my family life. I didn’t know where my next pay cheque was coming from. I found temporary work, but it was both mentally numbing and physically exhausting. The hours were long, and when I returned home, I needed to shut off. I wasn’t present. My relationship broke down and, before long, I found myself out of my home, away from my child, and sleeping on my mum’s sofa at 35 years old. Eventually, even that wasn’t an option. I ended up living in my car.
I didn’t realise at the time that I was struggling with my mental health – I just thought the world was against me. I began drinking just to get to sleep, to block everything out. It felt like the only thing that quieted the thoughts. But as anyone who’s walked that path knows, the more you rely on alcohol, the more it takes from you. What began as a coping mechanism quickly became a crutch and then a cage. I pushed people away and lost control. At times, I even hoped someone else would end it for me.
The turning point came from the people who refused to give up on me – my mum and a couple of close mates. My mum, who had already seen my brother battle PTSD, recognised the signs. She quietly worked behind the scenes to get me help, eventually connecting me with the Soldiers’, Sailors’, and Airmen’s Families Association (SSAFA), a military charity. My caseworker there changed everything. Looking back now, I owe her my life. After a serious head injury landed me in hospital, she stepped in and refused to let me go back to my car and isolation. She secured a grant to help me move into a new flat (fully furnished with everything I needed to live right down to cutlery). For the first time in a long time, I had a safe place to sleep. From there, the rebuilding began.
I went into security work, which gave me a sense of structure and camaraderie I’d been missing since leaving the military. Eventually, through a friend of a colleague, I found my way to FirstPort. I’ve now worked here as a Development Manager for almost a year. What I’ve found here is more than just a job – it’s a community. My colleagues, residents, and the rhythm of daily life bring a sense of purpose and belonging. I’m part of something again. I feel seen. I feel needed.
That brings me to this year’s Mental Health Awareness Week theme – community.
For someone like me, who’s lived through isolation, addiction, and homelessness, community is everything. It’s the people who ask, “Are you OK?”. The ones who call you out when you’re slipping. The ones who say, “I’ve got you.” That’s what saved me.
If you’re reading this and silently struggling, please know this: you don’t have to go through it alone. Ask for help. Speak to someone. At FirstPort, we have a Wellbeing Hub with a section specifically focussed on mental wellbeing and our Employee Assistance Programme (EAP) that can provide support and even speak to a dedicated member of the team. We also have several mental health first aiders. There isn’t any shame in struggling, but there’s real strength in reaching out.
And for the rest of us – look around. If someone seems quiet, off, or withdrawn, ask them twice if they’re really OK. We all have the power to be that lifeline for someone else. Services like SSAFA, or even Tommy Club – who we’ve raised over £30,000 for in the past year – can give someone a second chance. Which is why our fundraising resonates so much with me. I know the difference it can make.
I’m one of the lucky ones and I made it through to the other side. Not everyone will be so lucky, which is why I hope my story helps even one person realise: it’s OK not to be OK. And it’s OK to ask for help.
We’re not meant to do this alone. Together we are stronger.
Thank you,
Sean, Development Manager
