My life hit rock bottom... now I can help others

AOIFE Cullinane knows what it is like to hit rock bottom.

“I was in a sad and lonely place, I shudder to think I almost ended my own life,” she says,

“I once felt so hopeless because I was locked in self-judgement.”

Meeting the bubbly 43-year-old today, she is full of the joys of life. Things have changed utterly, and for the better.

“Now I want to give people hope,” says Aoife. “I have lived experience. I am proof that recovery is possible.”

This remarkable woman has completed a degree in psychotherapy and finished her clinical placement, and now hopes to establish herself as a psychotherapist and counsellor.

When she puts that plaque up outside her professional premises. her dad and her boyfriend will be the proudest men in the world.

Back in 2008, Aoife was battling dependency on alcohol, the financial crisis hit, then her husband lost his job. “It all hit all of a sudden,” says Aoife, who worked in a high-powered job as a sales executive. “It was the perfect storm. It hit all triggers.

“Loss of job, loss of income, and eventual loss of husband were things I went through.

“I used alcohol to self-medicate hoping all the problems would go away. Outwardly, I appeared to be successful and popular. The opposite was true.”

While Aoife’s problems were very stressful, she also had a dark shadow in her past.

“As a very young child, I suffered sexual trauma that I kept to myself. I suffered self-stigma and internalised shame, masking my anxiety and depression. I was in denial.”

In 2009, Aoife did her best to unravel her grim situation and tried to quit alcohol.

“I tried to quit on my own, but in the cold light of day the problems remained,” she says. “I couldn’t fix myself. I had no clue.”

She took action.

“I signed into Tabor Lodge for five weeks in 2012 for treatment,” says Aoife. “That went really well. Apart from other issues, they told me denial was a big part of my story.”

Aoife was sober but still getting flashbacks due to the trauma she had suffered as a child.

“I thought I was going crazy. I was experiencing suicidal ideation. I had cut myself off from people. I didn’t answer the phone. I told myself I didn’t want to live. I cut contact with my family. I put them through so much because of my depression and anxiety. They saw me getting worse. I was in my own bubble.”

She made a vital decision.

“I decided to take control and go to counselling.”

Counselling drew Aoife back to her family. After a stint in the GF ward in CUH, Aoife’s GP mentioned the option of going to St Pat’s Mental Hospital in Dublin (SPMHS). She was initially dead against it. “I thought the hospital was a big mad house and that I’d never come out and never have a quality of life.”

She was mistaken, and she really needed help urgently.

“My husband had had to call South Doc numerous times before I got help because I was self-harming,” says Aoife. “I was in mental turmoil.”

Aoife agreed to be admitted to St Pat’s in March, 2012.

“I thought, will someone come and get me? But my husband took me. He said, ‘Just let them help you’. It was a Sunday, and we had a coffee before I went in.

“It was nothing like I had imagined. The first morning I was up and dressed at 7m and a lovely nurse asked me what was I doing? She said I needed to rest; to just learn how to ‘be’ and help my brain to heal. I was always running.

“I was in a women’s ward at first and we had walks, cups of tea and chats. I learned it was OK not to be OK.”

Aoife lapped up all the supports and classes available to her

“I loved the arts and crafts, knitting and crocheting, and I did meditation and thought therapy. I loved the music room where I recorded songs. The professional help at the hospital was great. I got to the root of my problems and the cause of my depression and anxiety.””

Aoife’s recovery wasn’t quick.

“It felt like a marathon,” she admits. “The doctors told me when I left to enjoy my life but not to be surprised if I was re-admitted.”

And she was.

“I realised I had to overhaul my whole life to stay healthy. I realised I couldn’t go back to my old job; it didn’t suit recovery.”

She realised something else.

“I wanted to connect with people more and embrace writing, drawing and singing.”

Aoife didn’t want to revisit any more dark dangerous places.

“I was paying for my childhood trauma years later,” she acknowledges.

Aoife was referred to a counsellor, Orla O’Connell, “an amazing lady. The social worker, Rose, was also an amazing lady. I did huge work with her.”

All this time, Aoife never fell off the wagon.

“I never drank all the way through. It was not an option.”

On St Stephen’s Day, 2013, she was admitted to St Pat’s again.

“This second time opened me radically. This time I had no fear,” says Aoife.

“I felt safe. This time the shame lifted, and I felt hope. I felt I could give myself this chance.” Aoife decided to live near St Pat’s for a year.

“I rented a place and took part in open mic nights. I played songs, angry songs; I belted them out!”

She had a creative shift.

“I was song-writing and doing creative stuff. It was different.”

She felt different.

“I felt compassion for other people.”

Aoife felt other positive things.

“This was not my fault. I needed to grab life with both hands. I didn’t want to cause my family, my aunts, my cousins, any more worry or grief.”

In 2014, Aoife was back in her native Cork, working temporarily in the family business.

“I felt empowered,” she says. “I did a personal development course, and I did a diploma in life-coaching.”

She did other positive things.

“I joined the High Hopes Choir and I volunteered with Cork Simon and Share. I found volunteering to be so rewarding. I sang and played my music. Cork was very good to me.”

Her husband was very good to her.

“He was great, but he’d had enough,” says Aoife. “We split amicably, and he moved to London.”

She moved on with her life.

“In 2016, I got my cert in counselling and psychotherapy. In September, I embarked on a four-year degree which was interrupted by Covid. But I completed my degree.”

This April, Aoife will graduate. And her plaque proclaiming her as a qualified counsellor and psychotherapist will go up on the wall.

Aoife, with compassion for others and lived experience, is now a can-do person.

“I am my own therapist,” she says. “I can lean on my lived experience to work out stuff.

“I now have the skills and the tools acquired to face challenges, even if they come back, I can take action straight away. I am so grateful to be out in the world.”

Aoife has found a purpose in life.

“I feel very hopeful having found a purpose to help people who are in the same situation as I was. To help people who aren’t as lucky as me to have access to vital services, because I had health insurance and a supportive family.”

Aoife says getting well is like the process of ‘coming out’.

“It feels like, let’s out that. I am outing who I am.”

Who she was is nobody’s fault.

“I was living under a cloud. I can definitely see the value in all that I’ve gone through,” Aoife says.

She is finding love again with her Italian/American boyfriend, who is a good cook.

But, as we all know, we don’t live in a perfect world.

“He’s a great cook, and I tell him; ‘no more pasta!”

If you have been affected by this article, you can call Samaritans Ireland on 116 123, open 24 hours.