Belfast Telegraph

How two alcoholics changed their lives... and married

For Tricia and Jonny, both chronic alcoholics, 2020 was a memorable year for all the right reasons as they finally got sober and tied the knot. Claire Mcneilly talks to them

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DON’T try telling Pat r i ci a Quinn and Jonny Dobson that 2020 was a terrible year. It started with the pair, both chronic alcoholics, vowing to get sober and finally sort out their lives before it was too late.

It ended with the west Belfast mother of six and the Crossgar man getting married and looking forward to a bright new future together.

And it all took place during one of the most challengin­g years imaginable, a year when a person could have been forgiven for seeking some sort of crutch.

But while sales of alcohol during the Covid-19 pandemic reached record levels, this remarkable couple did not allow a single drop to pass their lips.

That isn’t to say it has all been plain sailing — there were bumps along what was always going to be a rocky road, and times when they genuinely didn’t think they could stay the course.

Now, however, they are looking forward to a happy new year and, God willing, the first full 365 days of sobriety that either can remember.

Patricia (46), known as ‘Tricia’, met her new husband Jonny (37) in May 2017.

Both were at Stella Maris, a wet hostel for homeless people with alcohol and drug addictions run by the Depaul charity in north Belfast.

Their individual journeys were different but they ended up at the same destinatio­n and in a similar condition — destitute, homeless and helpless.

With Tricia listening beside him, Jonny revealed that he had been “on and off the streets since he was 14” — often for years at a time.

“I started drinking when I was 13,” he told me.

“There had been a family break-up, and my relationsh­ip with alcohol quickly spiralled out of control.

“By the time I’d reached 18, I was taking other drugs too and had developed a full-blown alcohol addiction.”

Jonny admitted he stole alcohol “from shops, the back of bars and from people” to feed his habit, which intensifie­d when he moved to Belfast aged 18 and began sleeping on the streets.

“By the time I was 21 I had developed mental health issues”, he said.

“I spent the next 10 years battling to quit the drugs — ecstasy, cocaine, speed — and of course the alcohol. My dependency on it was getting worse, if that was possible.”

Things finally began to turn around when, as Jonny puts it, he “grew a conscience”.

“I was stealing from people and I really didn’t want to be that sort of person so I stopped doing it,” he said.

“I also wanted to quit drugs because of how they were making me feel. Gradually, I managed to wean myself off them.”

Al c ohol, however, was tougher nut to crack.

“I’d been trying to quit since I turned 30”, he said.

“I was bingeing, getting sober for two weeks, then bingeing again... the vicious cycle just went on and on.”

To complicate matters, Jonny started self-harming.

He began by “scraping” himself, but that soon morphed into something more sinister.

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“I’d been using broken bottles and ended up cutting a vein open in my leg,” said Jonny who, by March 2017 — just before he met Tricia — had “pretty much given up on life”.

“I’d cut my wrist, severing my median nerve. I was really on a downward spiral and couldn’t see a way out of it,” he said.

By then, he had been sleeping rough outside an off licence on the Ormeau Road.

Someone who works with homeless people finally intervened, taking him to the Stella Maris hostel, where his life would, not immediatel­y but ultimately, turn around.

Having met and fell in love with Tricia there, the pair left Stella Maris together in June, moved to a property in Co Down.

But although there was emotional salvation, neither party could defeat the demon drink and within a year both of them were back living in the hostel.

“We had really tried to make an effort but it fell apart,” said Jonny.

“We were also on the streets for a while. Tricia broke her ankle and I had to stay sober because she was in a wheelchair.”

The onset of the Covid-19 pandemic coincided with Tricia going into rehab — for a third, and what she is adamant will be the last, time in her troubled life.

“After Tricia took that big step,

Housing First [a service provided by Depaul Charity] found us temporary accommodat­ion in north Belfast because we were both sober at that stage,” he said.

They spent a year there; until their landlord sold the property and they ended up sleeping in a tent in different campsites, before then finding another bricksand-mortar home but it was on the third floor which was a concern for Tricia, who has epilepsy.

Through sheer, collective determinat­ion, however, they were able to save some money and acquire a one-bedroom apartment last August — their marital, dry home.

“I haven’t had a drink in eight months and Tricia hasn’t touched it for nine and half,” said Jonny.

“That might not sound like much but that’s massive for us. Previously, I’d never stopped for more than six weeks in my entire life.”

Jonny is now halfway through an Open University course in planetary science and astronomy and, while he spends the day studying, his new wife devotes her time to attending AA meetings and helping others who want to quit.

“I’m from an alcoholic family,” said Tricia, who spent six years “on the streets”.

“I was in a children’s home from the age of 10. I left at 15, had four kids by the time I was 21.

“I didn’t actually drink back then; I only started when I was 30.”

‘We’re happy for the first time, we’ve got money in the bank, we’ve got options, security — it’s a different life’

Unlike her husband, Tricia has never taken drugs but “didn’t have any friends”.

“I had some traumatic experience­s when I was in my twenties,” she admitted.

“I’d been having problems sleeping until I tried red wine. I didn’t actually like the taste of it but it helped me get over.”

Tricia told of how she tried to get sober back then but, after a spell in rehab got wine “to celebrate coming out”.

She said she lost virtually everything. Friendless and aged 35, she ended up on the streets.

“Drink cost me so much,” she said.

She is still in touch with some, but not all, of her children.

Tricia was “in and out of Stella Maris for years”, trying, and failing, to turn her life around.

“I was i nstitution­alised, I didn’t know how to be on my own or live on my own,” she said.

“I was drinking straight vodka, and most of my life was a blackout.”

Some memories she does retain, however, still haunt her every waking moment.

“I remember sleeping outside Mcdonald’s with a girl called Catherine Kenny, but she’s dead now. She died on the streets. Catherine called an ambulance for me once, after I’d had a serious epileptic fit.

“I ended up on a life support machine. When I woke up in the Ulster Hospital I didn’t know where I was or how I’d got there... but all I could think about was drink. I signed myself out of hospital and went straight to the off licence. Then I went back to Stella Maris...”

Another more pleasant memory: meeting Jonny — although she spent that first night in jail.

“I thought he was gorgeous,” she recalled.

“I was sitting beside him while he was watching a film, and I got arrested! I’d been arguing with a girl — a friend, actually — and ended up in the cells overnight.

“When I got out of the police station the next day, I went looking for Jonny.

“He told me he slept rough on the Ormeau Road so I went up there and found him. That’s where it started.”

Tricia puts her sobriety purely down to rehab — specifical­ly a spell in Cuan Mhuire, Newry, that began at the start of the first Covid-19 lockdown.

“I desperatel­y wanted to get sober,” she said.

“Jonny had a small relapse when I was in there. He phoned me drunk. I told him he had to get sober for both our sakes, and he did.”

After signing up to AA and finding a sponsor, Tricia now attends two virtual meetings a day.

She is also helping other alcoholics by giving “talks about my journey”.

She added: “If you told me this time last year I’d be sober nine and a half months and married

there’s no way I would’ve believed it.”

The couple tied the knot at City Hall on December 8.

“It was just me and him. My brother was the only guest. It was perfect,” said Tricia.

“The boss of Housing First got us a car, made me a posy and baked me a cake.”

Tricia who has one granddaugh­ter aged seven, and two grandsons, aged eight months and five months said 2020 has easily been the best year of her life.

They hope to honeymoon in Poland, when the lockdown restrictio­ns permit.

“Getting married is the third best thing I’ve ever done,” she said.

“The first was getting sober. The second was getting myself a sponsor in AA and doing the steps, and the third was getting married. I couldn’t have done the third one without the first two.”

She added: “It was so hard to get sober but I think the hardest part is staying there.”

Christmas was very different for Tricia who said last year she was “in blackout”.

“Jonny was sober but I was wandering the streets before we went to my dad’s for Christmas dinner,” she recalled.

This year, Mr and Mrs Dobson had Christmas dinner at Tricia’s dad only this time they both remember it.

“The worst part of living on the streets was not knowing who might end up dead beside you the next morning,” said Tricia.

Jonny added: “For me, it was not having access to any facilities. You’re just constantly dirty and broke and you have no options.”

He added: “It’s the first time we can say we’re happy. We’ve got money in the bank, we’ve got options, a bit of security; it’s a whole different life.”

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 ??  ?? Patricia Quinn and Jonny Dobson confirm their marriage
Patricia Quinn and Jonny Dobson confirm their marriage
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 ??  ?? Best year: Patricia Quinn and Jonny Dobson on their wedding day at Belfast City Hall
Best year: Patricia Quinn and Jonny Dobson on their wedding day at Belfast City Hall

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