Recovery Journeys – Glynn Horne

Table of contents

1. Introduction
2. A workplace culture that became a slippery slope
3. The ‘best friend’ that turned on Glynn ‘big time’
4. “There’s no such thing as one rock bottom”
5. How 16 years of abstinence became a grisly relapse
6. Staring hell in the face to catch a glimpse of heaven

For the fourth instalment of Recovery Journeys, we’ll be sharing Glynn’s story.

A former guest of Delamere, Glynn credits our Recovery Mentor Adam with saving his life in what he describes as “one of many rock bottoms” he faced due to his relentless, devastating addiction to alcohol.

Before discovering Delamere, Glynn found himself in a deeply dark place and travelling a dangerous path of self-destruction. Without Delamere, Glynn says he wouldn’t be here to share his story, nor to spend time with his beloved wife, children, grandchildren and dogs.

A residential stay at Delamere brought Glynn back to life.

Glynn believes his addiction to be a consequence of his career. In his late teens, Glynn joined the mining industry as an engineer and later became a soldier in the British Army. He then went on to become a police officer – all dynamic, demanding and often traumatic roles which meant working hard and playing harder as a coping mechanism were, simply, a way of life.

Working within heavily male-dominated industries, in which drinking was very much considered a culture, paired with trauma “beyond the comprehension of most people” was the perfect storm that led Glynn into the dark world of alcoholism.

One night, after “staggering downstairs for another drink”, Glynn instead reached for his phone, calling his daughter and asking for help – one simple yet daunting ask that changed his life for the better.

Unbeknownst to Glynn, his daughter had already been in touch with our admissions team and three days later, his recovery journey began.

We had the pleasure of welcoming our incredibly inspirational friend Glynn back into Delamere so that he could share his story of resilience, determination, faith and hope with us.

Need help?
Call us confidentially at any time to speak to a member of our team.

Call us now: 0330 111 2015

A workplace culture that became a slippery slope

Entering the mining industry as an engineer, it was a culture to drink. It was a heavily male-dominated world, there were no women whatsoever. Then later, both through joining the army and becoming a police officer, I was exposed to cultures in which working hard and playing harder was just a way of life.

I came into Delamere weighing tons of baggage. You can’t possibly imagine or understand the traumatic events I have been through. This unthinkable trauma was the catalyst that led me to drink, and I became egotistical, impatient and self-centred. All I cared about was myself.

When I first set foot in Delamere, I hated myself, I always had. But for the first time in my life, Delamere taught me to let go of my shame and guilt. That doesn’t mean you absolve responsibility for the things you’ve done. I will never ever not take responsibility, but I realised I am not a bad man, I’m a good man who has done some terrible things, some for Queen and country, and some because I’m addicted to alcohol.

Delamere taught me to put life into perspective. When I was a police officer, how many drug dealers and bad people did I help to put away that may have hurt others? There are many traumas that will never leave me, but in a way, I don’t want them to because they’ve shaped who I am today.

The ‘best friend’ that turned on Glynn ‘big time’

My ex-wife had married a very strong, capable man. As she watched me descending that harrowing path into alcoholism, she couldn’t accept that it was an illness. Instead, what she saw was this man that she’d married turn into a sobbing wreck.

My friend, alcohol, was turning against me big style and whilst on one level I completely got that and understood it, already it had sunk its claws in, and it wasn’t going to let go.

The first time I started to realise my alcohol intake was a problem, I was around 37. Up until that point, I’d had some absolutely fantastic times with alcohol, we were best friends.

“There’s no such thing as one rock bottom”

There’s no such thing as one rock bottom. You can have multiple rock bottoms. For me, I’d left home, left my ex-wife and children, and I was sleeping on my dad’s settee. I snuck out in the middle of the night, and I sat in the pouring rain, propped against a tree, drinking 10, 15 cans of cider, and then I thought ‘okay, time to go’.

But I just couldn’t get my youngest daughter’s face out of my head, she just kept coming to me. She was only four at the time and I just couldn’t leave her behind. So, I staggered back to my dad’s. That was pretty grim.

By February 2006, I was in a terrible state. I woke up on the liver ward of the Stoke hospital with tubes everywhere and was told that as a result of my alcoholism, I was just a few hours off death. That was a very eye-opening, life affirming moment.

During my time in hospital, I went into the hospital church and just prayed to whatever, as a man who had never been particularly religious. I pleaded, I just wanted to go home, I even promised that I’d never touch a drop of alcohol again.

When I got back to my ward, I sat on the bed and a registrar told me my blood results were perfect, and I was well enough to go home. I couldn’t believe it, but I’d made a promise and I had never been the type of man who failed to see something through. So, I remained abstinent from alcohol for 16 years and even met somebody new – a fresh start and another chance at happiness.

How 16 years of abstinence became a grisly relapse

Unfortunately, during those 16 years, my new wife underwent some incredibly traumatic experiences, probably as traumatic as things can possibly be. I watched with horror as she drank more, and more, and more to try to cope with these events.

I began drinking vicariously through her, and as a result of both trauma and complacency, I relapsed. I quickly descended into a pattern of drinking to oblivion. One night, I woke up for another drink, as alcoholics do. I staggered down the stairs to get to the fridge, and instead I sat at my kitchen table and rang my daughter.

It was 4:07 in the morning and I just said ‘help’. She told me they’d be with us within 30 minutes, and unbeknown to me, she had already been in touch with Delamere.

That just needed to happen. Three days later, I came to Delamere and my daughter and ex-wife, who has always stood by me despite what I put her through as a result of my drinking and has remained a good friend to this day, packed my wife off to hospital.

In one fell swoop, the pair of us started getting better and here we are, one year and one month later, probably the happiest we’ve ever been.

Staring hell in the face to catch a glimpse of heaven

Without my addiction, there are so many things that wouldn’t have happened in my life. You have to stare hell in the face before you can get a glimpse of heaven.

I hope when I leave this existence, I’ll be sober. I don’t know, all I do know is I won’t drink today. I pray that I have helped more people than I have hurt.

Coming to Delamere isn’t just about getting a detox in pleasant surroundings. When you walk through that door, be open. Surrender, be open to everything. I would recommend this place to anyone that can afford it. But I would say that when you’ve experienced Delamere, take Delamere with you.

I’ve said it so many times to so many people, this place saved my life. Delamere is the best money I have ever spent or ever will spend. It’s very unfair to single out just one person, when every single person I met at Delamere played such a huge part in my recovery journey. But that said, I truly believe that my Recovery Mentor Adam saved my life.

When you graduate, you do a little speech, and I thought long and hard about what I’d say. I looked at Adam and said I do not know what god sent you, but I’ll never be able to thank you, you saved my life.