Paul's Story

From isolation to hope: How Paul got his life back with support from Help for Heroes  

For two long, bitter winters, Paul’s world shrank to the four walls of his unfinished, cold, damp bedroom. No doors, no heating, no running water.  

The Army veteran lived among bare plaster and boxes, bundled in blankets with his loyal dog Bonny. Outside, Christmases were celebrated, families gathered, laughter rang out. Inside, Paul was utterly alone. 

“I felt like I didn’t exist,” Paul says. “I was so lonely.  

“That first Christmas I spent in a freezing cell when I knew everybody else was enjoying themselves, I didn’t want to live anymore." 

At his lowest point, Paul picked up the phone to Help for Heroes – a call he thought might be his last. 

“Making that call was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” he says. “But it changed everything. They saved my life.” 

After the Music 

Paul served proudly for 10 years in the Band of the Grenadier Guards as a musician and later in the Adjutant General Corps as a reservist until the age of 50. But when he developed PTSD, he left the military. 

Paul built a career at a leading courier and logistics company, rising through the ranks. “I was good at my job. I was organised, ambitious,” he says. But he admits his drive came at a personal cost. 

“I lost sight of what mattered – my family. I was providing, but I wasn’t present. And I lost them.”

The accident that changed everything 

Estranged from his children and divorced, Paul bought a house and threw himself into renovations, hoping for a fresh start. But a devastating DIY accident brought everything to a halt. While working with a circular saw, Paul slipped and badly cut three fingers. Two of them were barely attached. 

Surgeons managed to save his hand, but permanent nerve damage meant he could no longer work. Isolated, in constant pain, and with no income, Paul fell into a deep depression. 

“I stayed in my bedroom for nearly two years. It was the only room in the house that was marginally habitable. I could no longer complete the renovations or pay someone else to.  

“I could see the front door from my bed and watched the bills being shot through the letterbox each day. I was terrified to look at them. 

“I couldn’t open my mail because of fear for what was inside. Bills I didn’t know how to pay. I couldn’t see a way out of the bleak situation I was in. The cold that first winter was indescribable.” 

Hitting rock bottom 

With no kitchen, electricity or running water, Paul couldn’t cook for himself. Instead, he survived on takeaways, gaining more than eight stone in weight. The house decayed around him – a leaking roof, bare walls, exposed wires. As depression took hold, he struggled to manage his money, look after himself or ask for help. 

“I’m a proud man. I’ve never asked anyone for anything. But I hit rock bottom. The only thing that kept me going was my dog Bonny. I never wanted to ask for any help, but the only person or entity that came into my head was Help for Heroes. I thought, ‘I’m not a hero, but I’ve served. Perhaps somebody there will talk to me’.” 

Lifesaver 

That single phone call brought Paul a lifeline. He was assigned a case manager named Yvonne – and in his words, “She saved my life.” 

“She rang me every week, on the dot when she said she would. She reminded me about doctor’s appointments, supported me through opening letters and getting on top of my bills and paperwork. She was the only person I spoke to. She became my guardian angel.” 

Yvonne set to work, addressing issues affecting several areas of his life. She helped him apply for benefits he was entitled to. She coordinated a complete support network. Paul got his council tax arrears reduced and had a payment plan set up. 

Through Help for Heroes and their partners SSAFA – another Armed Forces charity –  Paul received grants for a boiler and central heating, had electricians and plumbers restore vital utilities, and even got help finishing his long-abandoned kitchen. 

“I’d spent £10,000 on that kitchen and it just sat there in boxes. Now it’s in. I can cook. I can eat proper food again.” 

Back in tune 

One of the most life-changing moments came when Yvonne encouraged Paul to return to his roots – music. A talented tuba player, he had played in prestigious brass bands across the UK, but during his lowest point, his instrument lay untouched on the landing. 

“I told Yvonne about the band. She said, ‘Why don’t you just go to a rehearsal?’ I hadn’t been out in days. I was scared to leave the house. But I went. And it was like I’d never left the band.” 

Playing music again didn’t just lift Paul’s spirits – it saved his life. One night, after a few days in bed feeling unwell, he was persuaded to attend rehearsal. He collapsed outside the band room. It was only thanks to fellow musicians and a passer-by that he received the emergency care he needed. 

“That’s when they discovered I was diabetic. The doctor told me if I hadn’t gone to band practice, if I’d stayed at home and not got any help, I wouldn’t have made it.” 

The rebuilding phase 

Now on insulin and working hard to lose weight, Paul is slowly rebuilding his life. He’s still living in an unfinished home, but it’s warm, safe, and slowly coming together. Most importantly, it no longer feels like a prison. 

“Yvonne gave me the key to my door,” he says. “Now I can choose to open it.” 

Paul has also taken part in Help for Heroes’ Recovery College courses on pain management, nutrition, and mental health. “They helped me realise I’m not alone. PTSD looks different in everyone, but it feels the same. Help for Heroes has shown me I’m not broken. I’m just healing.” 

Christmas remains a painful time for Paul. Estranged from his children and no longer the man who once cooked and delivered Christmas dinners to colleagues, he now spends the season quietly with Bonny. 

“That first Christmas I was very close to the end. But I looked down at my dog, my Bonny, and I thought, 'No, she still needs me,' and that's the only reason I got through it. We didn't celebrate Christmas. We didn't have any tree or anything like that. We just cuddled with each other and that was it, really.

“But the Christmas just gone was great, because the kitchen had been put in, I had a little tree in the kitchen and I was able to cook Christmas dinner.” 

Making a difference 

This year, Help for Heroes is asking the public to write messages of hope to veterans like Paul, who are facing loneliness and hardship. Help them start their next chapter. And if you can, please think about donating so veterans can continue to receive the life-changing support they desperately need. 

“To anyone thinking, ‘What difference can a message make?’ – I promise you, it makes all the difference,” Paul says. “You don’t have to write an essay. Just say, ‘Merry Christmas.’ Let someone know they exist. That’s all it takes.” 

Paul says he still has a way to go. But he’s alive. He’s playing music again. He’s smiling. And he’s hopeful. 

“I don’t know who was looking out for me – Yvonne, Bonny, something higher – but someone didn’t want me to leave this earth yet. And now? I want to stay.”