Alex's Story For a long time, alcohol and drugs were how I survived. That’s the simplest way I can put it. They helped me numb things I didn’t want to feel and quiet thoughts I didn’t know how to live with. What started as relief slowly became something else. Something heavier, something that took more than it gave. By the time I was in my late thirties, I was tired in a way sleep couldn’t fix. I’d tried to stop before. I’d promised myself I would. Sometimes I meant it. Somet

Grace's Story There was a time when I genuinely couldn’t imagine a future that included me. Depression wasn’t just something I felt, it was something I lived inside of. It coloured everything. Mornings felt impossible. Nights felt endless. I carried a heaviness that came from things that happened long before I had words for them. My childhood was marked by trauma, by instability, and by a constant sense that I didn’t quite belong anywhere. When things became too much, I ran.