Danny Lloyd (Guest) · 03:11
My story, I believe, starts in a little island very, very far away from Australia, in the middle of the English Channel, a little island called Guernsey, which was very famous in the Second World War as part of the Channel Islands. Guernsey, Jersey, and Alderney are the main ones. Sark and Herm, little islands there too. And if the sun and, and the summers were longer and, and it was to be warmer, you would think these were Caribbean islands when it's sunny, the crystal waters. Very beautiful place, but a very small, um, place. And when some birds like me need to fly, and when they're put in cages, they tend to behave like animals. So yeah, I would suggest my story probably starts kind of Growing up in the Channel Islands, watching my mum as a single parent do everything that she had to do to make sure that I had every opportunity in life, watching her work sometimes 4, 5, 6 jobs as a single mum. And, you know, that in itself has had its effect on me. Because my mom's my best friend and watching her have to go through all that, a lot of questions come up as a man. Why your father hasn't stuck around, been there, or offered the correct support at least. So I believe it's after 40 years of walking these plains of earth and understanding the journey and the— what I've grown through, I believe it really does begin with that kind of fatherless gap, kind of growing up in an island where I was— I was grossly overweight. Now I would have been 160 kilos at my biggest. You know, my mum had me into rugby. So give you— give you some perspective, I guess, of my size. When I was young, I think we were doing under-12s rugby for Guernsey and the start of the fanfare of the day, which was Guernsey versus Jersey, the two rival islands. And the start of the day is the under-12s and it's under-16s and it's under-21s and it's the main men, right? So there's big crowds and it's full rivalry, you know, Guernsey-Jersey. And we come out to train and warm up and the parents of the opposing side basically started creating a bit of ruckus. Basically what I now know was that they were refusing to let the game start unless my mother had a birth certificate to prove my under-12 age because of their fear of thinking that I was just some sort of freak show for the size of me. Kind of like, you know, I remember when Jonah Lomu kind of burst on the scene in rugby.. And so my mom had to go home. It was just, it was a big spectacle, right? Like, and I'm just stood in the middle of it like, yeah, I mean, I'm getting told every day at school I'm fat and I'm this and I'm that. And now here we are just standing in this whole arena and it's just another example of me right now. So anyway, I was very overweight and obviously, you know, kids are cruel. Things happen. No one means to do it. They're only kids. But you know, even my friends I did have would joke about my size, like, but thinking it's all in jest. And it was. But I can tell you now, the ramifications of being grossly overweight and being bullied and also being the butt of all the jokes, even with your friends, on reflection, has caused me a lifetime of issues physically, like my body image issues, my, my health anxiety that I have, my body dysmorphia, uh, that rules and has ruled my life outside of my addictions. Well, actually, it's an addiction in itself, this body dysmorphia, this focus on, um, what I, what I should look like. And then you compound that obviously with the day and age we live in anyway, where everyone is stuck in this, what should I look like, you know, how should I conform, um, which really didn't help. And then I went to a private school. My mom had worked very hard to give me a good education. She believed in two things in life: a good education and traveling. Those are the two things, the two pillars that she has always instilled in me, um, to be successful in whatever it is you want to do. You know, I was very lucky my mother didn't raise me and push her values on me. And when I say that, I mean this in all due respect, but we grow up and a lot of our parents' values, I believe, are pushed on us. We never actually asked whether we want to be Catholic or Christian or we want to have kids or we don't. We want to buy a house, we don't, or we want to go work in finance when maybe we want to work in, in building, whatever. We're kind of given this identity within reason. With my mom, she basically said there's only two things she ever wanted me to have in life, and that was to be happy and to travel often. Other than that, she said, you make me a grand— grandmother, you don't, that's up to you. All these things are up to you. And after the public school, or during the last few years at the public— at the public school— but by the way, rich kids are real mean, just, just putting out there. We weren't rich. But most of them were very rich children, very spoiled children, very sheltered children who behaved like animals, to be honest. That kind of growing up process for anybody is very tough anyway in this day and age and days gone by. But when you're grossly overweight, you're one of the kids at that school that doesn't have all of the money, you know. But my mum was working real hard, don't worry about that. Like, I didn't want for nothing. But it was just a different, different situation. And then you got no dad, right? And you're in puberty, you're coming into puberty, right? Like, no one's there to show you how to shave, you know, or do those things, just do those man things, right? So there was a lot of compounding things when I look back that were starting to really affect me. I didn't want to go to school sometimes, you know, like I was trying to make up excuses not to go in for different reasons. My mom had a lot of trouble going into the school and dealing with some of the teachers. And she was a big part of the PTA thing because a few of us were being treated very unfairly at that school because we didn't fit in. We weren't jocks, we weren't good at sport. We may not have been highly educated or highly from money, or we weren't benefactors putting money into the school and all that kind of stuff. We were just working class kids. That our mothers or fathers or parents had done everything they could to give us a good education. I started hanging around with a couple of people from outside of the school, and I guess from that point there, I believe, started my, my alternative life, my fake life, putting on the social armor of fake behavior, right? Like trying to fit in and not— and standing out like a sore thumb, you know? Like thinking that the world owed me something, thinking that it was me against the world. And I started hanging around with a lot of people from the public schools in relate— like the paid school I was in, the public school. A couple of— are still my friends this day. But it led me on to meet people that they knew. And from that point, I started trying to attach myself to people I thought were tough. I didn't know how to stick up for myself. My mom and my gran raised me, right? So, I mean, I was 6'4" and 160 kilos, and I was getting bullied by kids that were like, I don't even know, but let's just say they may have been 5' at 12 years old. I wouldn't raise my hand or do anything to anyone because my mother as she always said, I didn't raise a thug. Like, it takes a bigger man to walk away. And it's like, yeah, that's great, but like, it's not helpful when a lot of things are happening. And maybe if I'd have just lifted my hand up and stuck up for myself even just once, people would have just probably left me alone. But that wasn't the journey that I was on, right? And I'm very thankful to this day that I've been through everything that I have been through with my body image, my weight, my addictions, the violence, the things. Like, I haven't come this far to only come this far. Now, now I know everything that's been passed. I know what's ahead for the future, and I know that that means I can help a lot of people. Anyway, I was drinking from quite a young age, I'd say from 13, because that was really the thing in Guernsey anyway. It's a tiny island, it's, um, something like 18 kilometers long and it's got like 70,000 people on it. This day and age, it's driven by the financial sector, finance industry. So it's very rich, very divided between who's got what and who hasn't got anything. I felt like I was locked in a cage on that island. Everyone knew everyone's business and you're always waiting for the next person to say something to you about how you were living your life or something. And I don't know, it just didn't sit well with me personally. My mom raised me very free-spirited and I felt very caged in that island. And I guess when somebody's in pain, when somebody, when somebody's suffering and is in pain and is not in communication directly with themselves and is not connected directly to themself. When I explain all this, Evelyn, please understand, like my mother gave me all of the love I ain't from no broken home, right? And that's actually the most important thing to highlight here. I ain't from no broken home. And it doesn't matter what your family do for you. When you step out that door into the big bad world, you can be taught everything you want. You can come from all the love you want and none of the trauma growing up within your family home. And guess what? Life will still catch you on the blind side every time. You don't prepare the path for the child, right? You prepare the child for the path. It doesn't matter what you do when you walk out them doors. It's a cruel, nasty world and it doesn't care what it does to you. It's just about understanding that life is happening for you and not to you, right? The drinking led on to smoking marijuana and then trying ecstasy. And this was all by the time I was 17. So that's affecting your development, your development of your brain, your emotional regulation and everything, right? From there, the experimental stage continued progressing and being more and more aggressive. Started dealing drugs, getting into fights, violence, all of the normal stuff. And I mean, this was on a small level at this point, right? Guernsey is not some sort of London gangster paradise, right? Like, it's, it's got its fair share of different bits and pieces, but it's a small island, you know, like, within reason. Like, it's not like in London where you can go and hurt, maim, or kill someone and not be found. I, uh, from that point got into a lot of trouble. One year I got arrested, oh, I don't know how many times in that year, but I got arrested a lot. I got arrested for drugs, I got arrested for disorderly conduct, whatever. It was all in like a year or so. Like, my poor mum and my stepdad, who I call my dad, but for this purpose, so it doesn't confuse people, he's my stepdad. So they basically pulled me in and said, you know, I was— I reckon I was 18 coming on to 19th birthday, and they basically said, we can't carry on like this. Um, you've got two choices. You either go to the army or police or you go traveling. But that's it. That's your two choices. I look back on that now and understand the closeness I have with my mom, and I can't even imagine how much courage and how scared she would have been of giving me that ultimatum, because that's basically saying you do one of these two things because you're out of this home. Well, I mean, I was already living out of the home, but it was a very finite and final kind of ultimatum that could easily have been read like, oh, you don't want me no more, you know, like it's got too hard. I just said there's no way I'm going in the army. I'm not. Nah, discipline doesn't work with me. I'm too autonomous. So anyway, we, uh, I said I'm going to go traveling then. Fine, I'll go. I'll get out of your hair. I'll get out of the island. I was 19 years old and I ended up working 10 months straight, 90 hours a week, saved up my money, got a visa and got an Australian holiday work visa. And I came here for a year back in 2003 as a boy. And I returned from that a year and a half later, I think it was, as a man who had lost a lot of weight, like 60 kilos, looked completely different. Acted completely different, within reason, but the lost boy was still in there. He just looked a bit better. He looked a little bit more together. And I came back and I had the dream I wanted to move to Australia, so I came back to the island, had to get back into the integration of being in the cage again, which was never good. And I ended up starting my plumbing apprenticeship so I could move to Australia for good, as the dream I went about the next kind of 5 years of my— because it's a 5-year apprenticeship back in the UK, not a 4-year, I think it is here. And just for reference, plumbing apprenticeship in the UK is a City and Guilds qualification, which is internationally recognized, as in you don't need to retrain in it. Just keep that for reference in a minute, that'll make more sense. Anyway, over that 5 years, I fell back into old habits, even though I was getting the dream or trying to get the dream done. It was still what I always do, which was self-sabotage and just destructive behaviors and trying to constantly self-soothe the uncertainty. At this point, bless their cotton socks, while I went away for that year, when I returned, my mom and dad had decided to move to Italy and leave the island. And so as I came back, they were in the process of just, just heading off. It's probably a good idea in many respects. So they ended up starting a new life in Italy. So I was in guernsey on my own. Moving forward from that for a few years, I met my partner at the time, and it was probably the best part, time of my life when I look back on it now, when I was with my partner back then, Cathy, and she had a little daughter, Macy. Yeah, you know when you kind of come across and you look back on your life and you can honestly say that there was one person you truly loved? Like, that was that person. And those few years definitely quelled me and calmed me a bit. And I was obviously a big part of Macy's life for those kind of 4 years-ish that we were together. But the dream was still to move to Australia. And my partner at the time was very much a Guernsey girl, and she had a young, young child whose dad was coming back into her life a little bit. And there was a lot of things happening. And unfortunately, because of my wish to go to Australia, we had to amicably— and we're still very good friends now— part ways. And she said, I don't want to stop you with your dream. So I got the qualification done with the plumbing, and I moved to Edinburgh for a couple of years, to Scotland, right as the GFC, like the global financial crisis, hit. As a newly qualified plumber, And I, uh, I couldn't get a job. 1,000 people were going for, for each job as a plumber. So I went back into my old habits— drinking, drugs, violence, all the rubbish— maintaining and trying to keep my head above water while trying to figure out how I was going to move to Australia full-time with a qualification that meant nothing now in Britain. But well, couldn't get a job. And I was with another partner at the time, which, I don't know, she was an Australian girl which I'd been with for a couple of years when we moved to Edinburgh, and that's how I ended up moving here. But that, that went pretty south, unfortunately, once we moved here a little bit down the line. But anyway, while I was in Edinburgh trying to find a job, like, the— to give you an idea how bad it was there, the cost of a pint of beer was £5.68 and the minimum wage was £5.94. So I mean, there's a lot of disparity there, like, go figure that out. I'm not saying that you need to go drink pints, I'm just giving you an example that if you would like to go and have a pint on a Friday after work, you better hope you're doing all right with your hourly rate. So I ended up getting a job working for UNICEF, ironically, as a fundraiser, street fundraiser, where I had to stand on the streets and stop you with my humor and my personality and talk to you about the campaign that I was running, which was to get the 5 basic vaccinations for children. It was a very hard job to work, you know, every day in the snow, rain, it didn't matter. You were out there on the streets trying to get people to stop and talk to you and raise money. It was a very hard job. I got spat at and assaulted and a lot of horrible things. But yet again, another part of what forged me, I believe. At the end of that, I ended up getting a job where I worked for a lady, a Texan, a Texan lady and her husband, who was the leading mouth cancer doctor in the whole of Europe. And I helped them with their luxury B&B in St. Andrews, just outside of Edinburgh, which is obviously the very famous golf course. Long story short there, I went in as a laborer. I ended up walking out of there as a property manager for them because the person they'd employed actually was a con artist and had been trying to take all the money. And I, I'm a streetwise person, so I can pick up things pretty quick. And then a few months when I was working there for this bloke who had enlisted me to help him with these projects, It's just things weren't right, nothing seemed right, and I started like trying to look into who he was and found out he was a con artist. So the couple that I worked for, the old wealthy couple, I had to chat with them one night, and obviously it's very violating when you realize that somebody has been doing this to you, and they were very shocked by it. Long story short, we had basically like MI5 or whatever they are come in and do a big sting and set cameras up and He got arrested and all the things. And the reason I tell that point of the story is that basically from there, what happened was I became the property manager and helped them, and they were in my debt forever. And thanks to Bill, who had friends up above high, they helped me fast-track and get my visa, which is where the real story begins of why I'm in front of you today. Because once I did that and I moved over here in 2011 with my Australian partner at the time, I came here and I had achieved a dream, right? And very swiftly, within a matter of days and weeks, I turned it into a nightmare, an absolute nightmare. I was completely culture shocked by this place. I didn't know which way to turn. I didn't know how to connect with the men here. I didn't know how to connect with myself. I was in a relationship, looking back, that really— I don't know what we were even up to in it, but we must have done something because we were there for a few years together. Um, it wasn't an arranged thing, like, we were an actual couple, but I look back, I don't know what that was about. I guess maybe we would— maybe that's how I got here. But I very quickly tried to fit in in this group of people that I met when I first moved here. And they were taking what I thought was crack cocaine because they were smoking it in this glass pipe because crystal meth doesn't exist in the UK, barely. I did the normal Danny pattern and just went along and had to be the guy. And I got involved in trying this drug, which ended up becoming something that I was very adept at taking because I didn't know I had this ADHD thing. And so crystal meth is basically an illegal version of Ritalin, which is what they give people with ADHD. So most people taking crystal meth would show very easily that they're on that drug. I didn't show that at all. It made me calm. Paradoxed my ADHD. I was very good at taking it. The addiction went from every kind of few— every second or third weekend to every other weekend to every weekend. And then when my best— one of my close friends, Sarah Groves, was brutally murdered in Kashmir, I was working away for a large oil company Tara got murdered. My relationship was a joke at that point anyway, looking back at it. I was living a dream that was a nightmare. I wasn't doing plumbing because Australia doesn't recognize plumbing, even though my, my qualification's international. They wanted me to retrain in that, and I'd already spent tens of thousands just getting here. And out of pure stubbornness, because where I'm from in Guernsey, we're called donkeys because we're stubborn. I, um, I just— I was like, no, you're not telling me how to suck eggs. I'm not paying any more money. Like, this is a joke. I've spent tens of thousands of dollars and now you're telling me my internationally recognized qualification, you want me to retrain in all these units you've decided that cost $1,000 each? That's funny, that, eh? So I was working as an asbestos removal guy. That's not a pleasant job. Anyone that does it respect them. It's a, it's a job that has to be done. It's not a job that's very stimulating mentally at all. Partly what drove my addiction, because I was just doing a job that made sense at the time, because my partner at the time's father got me a job in this big blue chip company, and we were traveling all over Australia, and I was earning all the money and doing the mines, working the mines. And I was just working with a lot of men that were very hard men and had no emotional intelligence that I needed for me to connect with at least somebody. And then with Sarah being murdered and me working away a lot and missing home, being homesick and not really sharing it. And the more I got deep into the addiction, the less I would talk to my family at home when they'd call me, my friends when they're home would call me. And then it was day to day, every day. Wake up, smoke meth. Go to do anything, smoke more meth. Continue to be involved in stuff that I shouldn't have been involved in and continue to be a volatile human being, a violent person, a person that was quick to temper, uh, in a loveless relationship at that point. And a little while after that, there's this certain person— I took this young fella in off the street to help him and She ran off with him. Now, I mean, I've already got a lot of confidence issues, as I highlighted earlier with my body image. Uh, that's not the first partner that's cheated on me. So that kind of stuff doesn't help you either with your confidence, because it makes you ask yourself, what's wrong with me? When actually you should just be asking, what's wrong with them? But you don't, you don't have that emotional intelligence. This is why old people have wisdom. Because they're old enough to have lived enough to understand enough of what I don't understand. That was one of them moments, right? That was a fork in the road moment where I literally just looked at this— ah, I won't say that word— but this predicament that I was in. And I was due to go to Africa 4 months later to climb Mount Kilimanjaro to scatter my friend Sarah's ashes. This whole big thing, man, like Sarah got murdered and her family created created the Sarah Grose Foundation, and to launch it, we were to climb Mount Kilimanjaro just like she'd done 2 years previous. We had the same porters, the same guides. It was 30 people from all over the world that knew we were flying in. It was just this whole big thing. 4 months out from that, while everyone's getting trained up and getting all of the, the stuff ready and all of the right climbing gear, I'm addicted to meth. My ex is— or my partner's just ran off with some kid. My life is a complete car crash. I am beyond disconnected to myself or my understanding of why the hell I'm even in Australia. So I called my mom up, as you do, and my gran at different points, and I told them what happened. And I was obviously very emotional. And they did something that I'll never forget. But yet again, they're just— tough love sometimes works, right? And I called mom first and she gave me this hard chat, which is, I don't want to hear this, right? That person that's done that to you, it's there, it's on them. You shouldn't be thinking all these things about you. It's horrible what they've done, whatever. She said, pull yourself together and call me back when you have, and put the phone down. So then I called my gran thinking I'd get a bit more sympathy for that, and she gave me the same chat, like, as in, in relation to saying, why are you feeling sad about this? Like, what she's done is horrific. You shouldn't think anything but this is a good thing that you know now and you move forward. Anyway, I called my mom back and she said, what are you going to do? I said, I don't know. And she said, well, you need to figure something out because you're in Africa in 4 months' time and I'm worried about where this leads you now. Anyway, I called a friend of mine up that I knew, about as emotionally deep as a puddle, but I called him anyway. And he basically said, he gave me a way out. He basically said, look, I'm up in Alice Springs. Go and get an ABN, come up, live with my family, get yourself together and get ready for Africa. And within 4 days, I just left everything behind for this partner, ex-partner at this point, and walked out of the relationship, left everything, continued to pay the house and everything for months after that because I've always learned something when someone hurts you, just kill them with kindness, man. It's like actually the best way that you can rise above is no matter how much somebody hurts you, understand that hurt people hurt people, and so act accordingly and just be kind and kill them with kindness. So I got my ABN, I jumped on the plane, and I flew out to Alice Springs in the middle of the desert. And I have no idea, from Adelaide, didn't have a clue what any of that was about. And I landed on Indigenous Round Day for the AFL. And Indigenous Round Day for the AFL every year, they actually telephise a game from Alice Springs. And the reason I tell you that is what I was then to go on to do in Alice Springs for the next 7 and a half years, I find it very poignant that I landed on Indigenous Round Day as a white English person who was riddled with addiction. And I landed in Alice Springs and I remember looking around thinking, wow, this was like what I've seen in the Crocodile Dundee films. This is why I actually came out to Australia. Like, I wanted to be in this kind of arena. I landed, I got there, I got my, I got my head down, worked for my friend Trent and lived with his family for free, and they, they helped and, and supported me. And I got myself as clean as I was going to get to go into Africa, as you do in the middle of a meth addiction. And I went to Africa 4 months later, and I, uh, climbed Mount Kilimanjaro, which is no small feat. And I snapped my ACL about a day and a half from the top, but I just, I did it anyway. I just was like, nah, I haven't come this far. Like, my guide William helped me and we just, I made it up there with the leg was blown out. It was a complete nightmare. I ended up getting stretchered down afterwards when we come back down a day later. They stretched me out of there because it was causing problems for everyone else to get down after that. But I did it. I got up there. And I remember when I got up to the top of that mountain, I looked out over the plains of Africa and I got glaciers all around me up top there. You're looking out watching the sunrise over the plains of Africa. And I remember just saying, I've got to leave this here, Sarah. Like, I can't do this anymore, man. A pain in my heart. I can't. I've got to move on. I've got to do something about my life. I've got to do something about what I've gone through and what I could do to help others. And from that day, I reckon, I reckon it was one of those aha moments, like one of them moments in time, right, where like everything just changed. Now, when I say that, right, much like someone trying to lose weight, you don't just lose weight overnight. It's a lifestyle change. It took much time and effort. But I moved back. I come back from Africa. I went down to Adelaide to collect the rest of my things because I just abandoned and left everything after that. Situation that had unfolded. And I put whatever I could, whatever I owned that was left in a 1991 white Holden Nova. And I drove to Alice Springs from Adelaide and the car didn't go very well and it was a struggle, but I got there and within 6 weeks of being there to live and moved there, I said to my mum, I can't do this, this construction stuff anymore. It's doing my head in. I want to help people. And she said, son, if you want to see the change, in this world, you need to be the change. So, you know, you're what, 2 months clean? Go and get a job and help people. So I went and got a job, or I went for an interview in a rehab. People that interviewed me said to me, 2 ladies, I'll never forget one of them is one of my friends and mentors to this day, what are you doing here? Like, there's all these people applying for this job. Why are you applying for it? You're a plumber. I don't get the script. And I was bluntly honest. I said, listen, I'm 2 months clean off meth and I'm going to change the world. Now, I can change the world with you and your organization, or I can find another way of doing it, but I'm going to do it. My conviction will, will not be quelled on doing this. So if you give me the chance, I will change a lot of lives and help this rehabilitation center and the greater side of this business outside of the rehabilitation center and at the same time, I'll change this community. I just need a chance. Now, you can imagine the risk they took, right? Employing a 5-year meth addict and basically a 20-year addict, to be honest, from every substance under the sun, and 2 months clean, and just let him go and start working in a rehab. I mean, think about that. Quantify that. They took some risk on me. I'll tell you now, they must have either seen something in me or they were stupid. I'm going to say they seen something in me because I know the lady that took the risk on me and she ain't stupid. Anyway, from that, I was up against the industry straight off the bat. Back then, lived experience wasn't being appreciated in 2014, right? We were the enemy to the industry, lived experience. It was like a joke. My connection with clients straight away threatened so many of the staff there, it was unbelievable. The way I was treated, the way I was bullied. At that, in, at that place from some of the staff that just felt uneasy, that had been there years, that couldn't connect with clients like me. People started accusing me of being on drugs, taking drugs, using drugs, dealing drugs. I was tested, drug tested, that organization, I can't tell you how many times in my career there, from accusations mostly in-house. And that's okay because the staff that were doing that were just People don't— people hate what they don't understand and fear what they can't conquer, right? So that's okay. Like Winston Churchill said, you got enemies? Good. Means you stood for something, right? If everyone's your friend, you're doing something wrong. And I'm not saying that in a negative way, it's a positive statement. Anyway, I got my head down, I did all my studies off my own back. I wanted some substance to go with the lived experience because people weren't taking me seriously enough. So I got my Cert IVs in community services. I did my diplomas with RMIT University. I did a load of other qualifications off my own back, just, just holistic things, because I believe in holistic approach. I don't fully believe in just, just psychology or just counseling. I'm sorry, there has to be a, a multiple-faceted holistic approach to addiction recovery and finding yourself again. Anyway, within 18 months of being there and working myself to the bone and probably switching my addiction, to be honest, into work, into this mission, into this purpose, you know, like 18 months in, I'd been making a bit of noise around the place, basically saying that the program they had developed for Aboriginal people mainly had changed a lot in relation to the population that were coming through the rehab. There was a lot of other ethnicities a lot more meth use. And I— the CEO got me in one day and basically said, you're making a lot of noise, you got a lot to say, what you got to say? And I said, I'll tell you what I got to say. And I explained to her, I said, you're not moving with the times. You got a lot of meth coming through here. You know, there's this thing that people are saying, this racism in this rehab between the Aboriginal and the other people. It's got nothing to do with race. It's actually the Aboriginal people mainly are drinking and smoking ganja. The other people are on meth. That's why they're clashing, right? Like, they're in groups around their drug of choice. It's got nothing to do with color. Anyway, she says, you think you're so great, I found a small bucket of money from the NTPHN, which is the Primary Health Care Network of the Northern Territory. Open a meth program then if you think you're so great. I dare you. I've given you— you've got enough money there for you, one other person, that's it. And you can have 2 small cars, Holden Barinas. I'm 6'4" and my outreach car to drive around was a Holden Barina, right? I'm 6'4", I'm covered in tattoos, and I'm— and I start working. And so I open this meth program, right, with this one other fella. It's an outreach program. We work in the community. Think about it like a mobile rehab, right? So we're working with drug-affected people. When you go into rehab and you're working in one and the clients in that rehab, they're not on drugs or they're meant to not be on drugs. Mine were always on drugs. I was going in there and trying to get them off drugs while they were smoking meth or injecting it in front of me. And I'm only clean 18 months. And before that, I was literally in the rehab working for 18 months trying to stay clean, which I did. But being constantly exposed to a lot of things. I basically went about working. I don't even know. It would be a joke to try and figure out and quantify the amount of hours on a weekly basis I was working. But it was my life, like everything about it. Like a parent dedicated to their sick child. That was what I did with these clients. They were my sick children and I would have done anything, moved heaven and hell, earth. I worked with the clients, I worked with their families or anyone that needed to be brought into this, supported through this and understood and educated outside of it. We did that. We went out there and created programs that weren't even being funded. We were going into prisons. We were creating through-care programs. We were going out and educating. The system was not happy with me, like, at the start, and I was pushing back against it as well. Community corrections parole officers, prison officers, no one liked me. And they were right to feel that way within reason because I had a bit of a chip on my shoulder. I don't like authority back then. I didn't realize how hard their jobs were to do. But by the end of this 5 years of doing this program where it became a national success and everything happened, they were flying me up to the parole board to do like education to help the parole board understand meth addiction and addiction in itself. All of the correctional officers, I was doing things everywhere. I don't know. When I look back at it now, Like, we changed legislations. We got written into drug reform policies in Victorian governments because they wanted our program over there. We saved so many people's lives, livelihoods, families, kids. We were out day and night. We were on call 24 hours a day. We were being called out in the middle of the night. I had to cut people down from hanging themselves, try and resuscitate them, keep them alive. Self-harm, mutilation, cutting open their arms and ripping things out of their arms that shouldn't be taken out because of their drug psychosis, getting bricked over the head, violence threatened against me. I had corrupt police that I knew were corrupt, corrupt detective who was starting to follow me and try and make me scared of him, right? Because he— I knew what I knew and I was like, nah, I'm not having this. And even my CEO was saying, you got— this is getting out of control. I'm worried for your safety. They could plant things. I don't care. So you think Nelson Mandela said that stuff? No, he just sat in his prison cell because he knew the greater good that needed to be done. I'm not scared of anyone or anything because where I used to be, nothing can be scarier than that. So right now where I live in this purpose, that's me. Anyway, the long and short of it is the best thing that ever happened to me in my life, outside of obviously having my mom and my family, was meth. And I know that sounds ridiculous, but sometimes the best things that we should do are disguised as the worst. And it gave me my purpose because nobody wants to help meth addicts. Like, the majority of this country and this world are scared of meth and people that use meth, but we're all good with alcoholics. Like, as in, people are quick to easily treat alcoholics and not be scared of them. Alcohol's a volatile drug, right? It's the worst drug on this planet, but we're never going to be told that because it's taxable and we make money off it, right? I believe the best thing that ever happened to me was becoming a meth addict. It gave me a purpose. And when I seen what I managed to do with a small team of people, basically on the books one person, but my CEO Carol Taylor was so amazing at how she maneuvered things that We had a couple of other programs funded that I could basically have staff from, and it was a complete fix-it-as-you-go-along situation. I don't even know how we pulled that off. Like, there's organizations in this country and in this world that should be ashamed of themselves for the resource, financial backing, and staff groups and systems they have in place who are being completely ineffective in helping people. And what we did, literally on a shoestring— there was no shoe, it was just a shoestring. Like, we had nothing and we did everything. We literally changed the way addiction and meth addiction was handled, and we saved a lot of people's lives, of which now some are even working in the industry themselves. These are— there was one gentleman who, who came out on lifetime parole from, from murder charges. Couldn't be fixed, apparently couldn't, couldn't be helped. And we got him out. And me and our team and the rehab and the little organization, tiny little organization in the middle of the desert, helped him to get to a point now where he works for that organization and is one of the best case managers they've got and is a pinup boy for community corrections. Apparently he couldn't be helped. I've worked with gang members. I've worked with highly violent people. I've worked with people that no one wants to be in a room with. And my people, right? Because thugs need hugs. People that are highly violent, people that are disengaged, that don't understand themselves, they need somebody to say, I get you, I see you, I got you. And so from seeing and letting my neurology understand what I could achieve in a couple of years with nothing is why I walked away on the high and left the legacy of that program with the brothers and what they're doing. And moved down to Adelaide, back to ground zero. This is where my addiction started. I moved back down here just over a year ago with one of the staff who's also one of my best friends from the program. And we came here and we opened up our own business a year ago to tackle the same things, but on a very different level, doing it our way. We— I work for a non-government organization, right? I work for an NGO, nonprofit, 30 years it's been around, Systems. It's got like 28 staff. All of the millions of dollars of funding, still massively underfunded service, and a miracle what Carol Taylor did with that, the CEO and one of my biggest mentors. But we're starting from scratch. We've got nothing. We've got no backing. We were living out of food bank 6 months ago, me and Jordan Mockabee. That's my business partner. But we've got the mission, right? We've got the dream. Isn't that all you need? We're sitting in a society that's absolutely obsessed with what we should have, have the money and have this and have that. You know what? I don't have any of that and I'm the happiest I've ever been. I went to Alice Springs, I didn't even know who I was and I left there and I know who I am now. And when I left, they named a building after me and everything. And that's not even why I got into doing this. But when you just turn up and dedicate to the mission, right? To dedicate to life, life moves with providence. When you dedicate to the mission. And when I see what we achieved and what I ended up walking away and having all of these accolades and things, and I thought I was nothing and nobody, and I see that I did that in a few years and now I can do the same but in my own way autonomously because I would be a nightmare to manage. Trust me, I would just be the worst person in the world you wouldn't want to manage because I have to just be— I've got to be a bird, right? I can't be put in a cage. That was exactly what started this whole situation and started this story that I've been sharing today, is being put in a cage in a small island and feeling caged. I have to fly free, and I have to make sure that everybody that I touch that may feel caged inside their mind with their addiction can be given the keys to fly free as well. That's why this, this mission is bigger than me. This thing I want to do, this thing me and Jordan will do, the public speaking, the addiction, the one-to-one, the group work, whatever it is that we are going to achieve and that we will achieve will only be done because we remain on purpose. We live on purpose. This ain't about money. This ain't about accolades. It never was. That just comes with it when you just remember why you started on this. I got out of addiction because of the way I was raised. I'm gonna say that again. I got out of addiction because of the way I was raised by my mother. I got into addiction because life catches you on the blind side. All of these things that come at you, it's still a beautiful life, right? You can either let life happen for you or to you. The minute that I changed that over and realized was the minute that I ended up becoming the person I am today and the reason that I get opportunities like this to sit in front of people like yourself and Ian and be part of campaigns and do things because my tragedy now can be used so that everyone else can triumph. Sorry for the interruption. This is Ian Westmoreland, the founder of Katsuki Heroes, and thank you for listening to this story from one of our amazing heroes. Our mission is for these stories to provide hope and inspiration to people experiencing life challenges and to also educate the broader community on how best to provide support. If you would like to help us to continue to produce more hero stories and cover more adverse thematic themes, we would welcome all donations. These can be made via our website, kintsugiheroes.com.au. The donate function is at the bottom of the home page. We'd also welcome any feedback. You can email me direct using ian@kintsugiheroes.com.au. Now let's get back to the story.