John's Story

The first time I engaged with Chrysalis myself would have been about two years after that. So, I’d say about three years ago was the first time I actually reached out to Chrysalis.

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Interviewer: And you’ve been in continuous contact with Chrysalis for three years?
John: I’ve been in continuous contact with Chrysalis for, I’d say, the last three years, yeah. I’ve never been too far from them—they’ve been in my peripheral vision, let’s say. I’ve always known Chrysalis was there for me as an option, and that’s very important—to know that it was there for you rather than just knowing of it.

From the first time I engaged, I found out what it was about: the caseworkers, the option of having one-on-one counselling, and so on. I thought, “Okay, those things are there—that’s good to know.” It was local, and it was support. Knowing that free, non-judgmental support was available was a nice feeling.

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Interviewer: And do you feel that it was important to know that it was available?
John: Yeah, important—but also scary. The first time you walk into something like that, whether it’s a CA or NA meeting or a community drug outreach program like Chrysalis, it’s daunting. It’s very real—you’re having to come to one of these places. But it’s also comforting, knowing they’re there. It’s a double-edged sword—it’s both a good and a bad day the first time you have to reach out.

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Interviewer: You mentioned one-on-one case referrals and counselling. What services have you actually availed of with Chrysalis?
John: If my memory serves me correctly—though it often doesn’t, part and parcel of the whole thing—the first time I came, about three years ago, I filled out forms and was on track to work with a caseworker. But I strayed away; I thought I was okay and never followed through.

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The next time I engaged with Chrysalis was about a year after that. I rang them after my dad died—I’d been caring for him and thought I was managing my own recovery. His death changed everything. I called Chrysalis quite desperate. I said on the phone that I really wanted one-on-one counselling. I didn’t feel safe, even though I had support from family and friends—they’re not professionals, and they shouldn’t have to be.

I told them they should have my name on file, that I didn’t feel I needed to start over with a caseworker. I just wanted counselling. They listened. I got a call back not long after, and I remember being miserable at the time but also really happy to find out I’d have regular one-on-one counselling sessions. It made me feel safe—safer, I suppose.

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Since then, my main experience with Chrysalis has been the one-on-one counselling. That’s been every Monday. In Ireland, we have an increasing number of bank holidays, so you can take a few of them away, but having that regular session at the start of the week—knowing I’ll sit with someone unbiased and talk freely—has been invaluable. Whether it was about recovery, addiction, grief, or everyday life stresses, I’ve always left feeling lighter.

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In early sobriety, when the urges were constant and I felt really low, that standing appointment meant everything. Sometimes I knew exactly what I needed to talk about; sometimes I had no idea and ended up uncovering something deep, crying, or realizing what was really weighing on me. I’ve always been encouraged when I’m moving in the right direction. It’s been a sounding board. I’m a lot better now than when I started—I was in a bad way then, full of grief and not sober. My emotions were everywhere.

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Interviewer: You mentioned moving in the right direction. Do you think you’ve achieved the goals you set for yourself?
John: Yes. I’m doing exactly what I set out to do. I’ve hit every marker I wanted to hit. Lots of people told me not to even entertain the idea of moderation or self-control—that I was broken and always would be. But I didn’t accept that.

 

I felt my circumstances had caused unhealthy habits and thoughts, and if my mind developed that way, I could un-develop it. My plan was to be able to drink normally again—to not feel like I was missing out on parts of life I once enjoyed. I wanted to unlearn unhealthy patterns, become disciplined, and grow up a bit. I’m very aware that I’m at risk if I lose vigilance, but I’ve gained control.

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I often describe it like a dog—you don’t trust a dog alone with a toddler. You know your dog, you think it’s fine, but you don’t take that risk. Addiction’s like that. I don’t get complacent. I stay vigilant.

I’m getting married this week, and I’ve allowed myself the possibility of drinking in moderation at my wedding. I also allowed myself to drink at my stag. In Ireland, those are big social events. I didn’t want to feel excluded. I believe there’s a time and place for alcohol—it’s a horrible poison, but sometimes it plays a role in human connection.

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For example, at my dad’s funeral, I drank after seven months sober. I’d never take that back. It helped me grieve and connect with others who were hurting. Alcohol is 95% destructive—but 5% of the time, it can serve a purpose. That belief isn’t popular in recovery circles, but it’s been nurtured at Chrysalis without judgment. I was allowed to dream that, and because of that, I feel whole again.

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Interviewer: So in that analogy, the drink is the dog. Do you think you’re the toddler that’s grown up now?
John: Maybe, yeah. I’ve grown through relapse, through talking, through understanding my triggers. The dog is catastrophe—being on the floor, ruining everything. The toddler is me—vulnerable. But I’ve matured. I don’t switch off around alcohol, just like you don’t switch off when driving. You stay alert.

I’ve learned that long periods of abstinence are healthy, but I also believe that with self-awareness and discipline, occasional use can be safe. That’s not true for everyone, but it’s working for me.

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Interviewer: Can you remember a specific session or intervention that stood out to you?
John: Not one in particular, but several times I came in stressed and thought I was upset about one thing, but through talking, realized it was something else—often family-related. That process of unpacking what I was really feeling was powerful. Talking things through helped me act on them—make plans, have difficult conversations, and relieve the stress.

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Interviewer: You mentioned your mindset and outlook on recovery have changed. Do you feel you’ve matured in how you relate to alcohol?
John: Absolutely. My fiancée had her hen party recently—the house was full of alcohol. She was out, and I was cleaning up alone. It could’ve been a trigger. But I looked at it all—smelled it, handled it—and didn’t drink. I thought it through.

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Before, I wouldn’t have wanted any drink in the house. Now, it’s fine. The beers are out in the shed for guests, but I don’t touch them. I’ve built respect for alcohol—not admiration, but respect in the sense that I know it’s dangerous.

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My plan now is clear: I’ll think hard before I drink, I’ll respect my limits, and I’ll treat substances with caution. Abstinence might minimize risk, but for me, moderation—done responsibly—keeps me connected and fulfilled. I’m a young man with a full life ahead, and I want balance.

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Interviewer: You’ve mentioned having a plan—and that you act on it.
John: Yeah. When I started, the plan didn’t exist. It only became real through talking here—turning ideas into action. Now it’s a system that works for me. People might say it’s not a good plan, but it’s a good plan for me.

Interviewer: Thank you very much.
John: No problem. Did you get it?
Interviewer: I hope so.
John: You got it? Should we cut that now?
Interviewer: Yep.