Our stories

I grew up in a military family in Fiji. My grandad and lots of my uncles were in the Fiji army which is the British Army as well. My grandad fought in the Second World War and won a Military Medal, which is now a Military Cross. You have to be brave to get that one. I'm proud that my granddad was awarded that, it's a big thing. I wanted to be in the army and I came to England and joined the Grenadier Guards. Wearing the uniform made me proud to be part of the organisation and I know my family are proud of what I've achieved. My first tour was to Kosovo. I then spent six months in Bosnia, then I was deployed to Iraq and, after that, did two tours to Afghanistan.

At first, I didn't feel like there was anything wrong with me. I would go to work and, in my free time, I would spend a lot of time drinking. In our battalion, we were all doing the same thing, drinking. I didn't spend time with my children or my wife. At that point, I didn't even understand that what I was doing was hurting them. Drinking was an escape. To be with my friends and just talk rubbish all the time, made me feel good. I didn't want to be with my family or my civilian friends. I just wanted to go to the pub and just drink. It was like being in a therapy session with the lads. It's quite sad thinking about it now that I wasted all that time, from morning to night, just being drunk every chance I got. Instead of getting calm by coming home, I just got more angry. I did want to get better, but I just didn't know how to do it. My wife and my family were talking to me, telling me that I needed to sort my life out, that there was something wrong. I booked an appointment at work with the army psychiatrist but, after a number of appointments, they told me that I had to leave the army. I was so frustrated. I told them that I really wanted to get better, get back to the battalion and finish my career in the army. I couldn't see anything else for me outside the military. But, I had to leave.

I was unsure how I would deal with my life outside of the army and I did struggle. I carried on drinking and having nightmares. Everyday life was hard and I thought about ending it. I tried to get help. I was given lots of leaflets but was unable to get any therapy. It felt like nobody wanted to help. Eventually, I was told about Icarus and that they might be able to help me. At that point, I really needed somebody. So that's when I got in touch with them. As soon as I did, I got help straightaway. At Icarus, there's somebody there for you, no waiting around. My therapist was a veteran and I knew he understood. With other people that I had spoken to I knew they didn't really understand, they weren't in the army and they couldn't relate to what I had to say. Icarus really worked for me. The therapy I've done works for me. They will understand the situation you are in. They will help.

Ever since I was a young child I wanted to join the military. When the Falklands War happened in 1982, I used to run home to watch the news. At the age of 12 I had decided I was going to become a paratrooper. I was with the parachute regiment for about 10 years. I had training tours in Africa, Kenya, Botswana, Egypt and spent three years in Northern Ireland. You often hear the phrase for Queen and Country (or for King and Country now) and that's kind of the ideal. But in all honesty, it's about the bloke standing to the left and right of you, that's what you fight for. And you expect the same from them, they fight for you and you fight for them and we all look out for each other.

With the parachute regiment there's an arduous selection process known as P company or pre parachute selection. At the end of successful completion of this test you are awarded your Maroon beret. You are then part of a very exclusive club known as the airborne brotherhood. Anyone that's passed P company, has done the wings course, is essentially my brother.

Leaving the military was the second hardest thing I've ever done in my life - the first was joining the military. It is a strange feeling handing in your ID card and leaving the gate for the final time. Very intimidating and daunting. I added to that by emigrating to the United States and life became very stressful and overwhelming.

With regards to my mental health, for a long time 15 or 20 years, I convinced myself that the stuff I was feeling was normal. My outbursts of anger and rage were justified, so too were my bouts of depression - it was 'normal'. I think a lot of people do that, convince themselves that this is okay. It's only when you realise that something is broken that you can even attempt to fix it. That point came for me after some particularly hard calls in my work as a firefighter paramedic, some particularly gruesome experiences that really deeply affected me. I gradually became aware of my own mental ill health and then reached out to Icarus for help.

Through a long period of therapy and counselling I started to feel better. I was continuing to work at that point. I then had a relapse which came in the form of a panic attack and a trip to the emergency room. Since then, I've doubled efforts to get better. I think it's working quite well and I am on the mend.

I find being a mentor at Icarus rewarding, but it’s also therapeutic. It reminds me of my own mental ill health and the steps I've taken to get better. In teaching these steps to other people, it helps reinforce them. It's good to end a call with someone and ask them the question 'how do you feel now versus when we started talking an hour or so ago' and invariably they say 'I feel a little better'. That sense of well I've helped someone, however little it may have helped - in doing so it helps me - it's very satisfying feeling.