and disorientating. But we made it. Together. For me, that summit wasn’ t about standing on top of a mountain – it was about standing inside my own life, and realising I was finally living it. That’ s what recovery gives us. |
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PERSONAL JOURNEYS Terry Devine, from Weston-super-Mare and a fundraiser for M. A. T. E.( Men and Their Emotions) and Cots for Tots, shares his experience:‘ I remember summit night on Kilimanjaro— the air was thin, my legs were jelly, and I was ready to turn back,’ he says.‘ But a friend reminded me,“ You came here for Jacob. This is his mountain too.” That reminder carried me to the top.’
Twelve and a half years ago, he was a‘ street-level addict who had lost everything’, he says.‘ I had periods of homelessness, eating out of bins, and stuck in a revolving door of petty crime and arrests. The drugs had stopped working, and eventually so had the people who used to enable me. At that point, I realised I was completely alone and that change wasn’ t just desirable, it was the only way I was going to survive.’ Fast forward to today and he’ s a lecturer in forensic science at the University of the West of England.‘ I’ ve gone from injecting in alleyways to teaching in lecture halls,’ he says.‘ From hiding from
As we ascend, step by step, it mirrors our personal journeys. There are moments you want to quit. But you look to your side, and someone’ s still climbing next to you. That’ s what recovery feels like at its best.
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Opposite: Nicky Dwyer and Steve Such on Mount Toubkal. Above: Seen Anderson, James Pierce, Nicky Dwyer, Joseph Elam and Terry Devine on Mount Toubkal, North Africa. Right top: Mount Musala, the Balkans. Right centre: Camping in the clouds at 4,100 metres on Mount Ararat. Right bottom: Steve Such, Jay Arnold, James Pierce and Nicky Dwyer at Pen Y Fan.
the law to working alongside people who shape it. But the thing about recovery is, it’ s not linear. It’ s not a one-time decision – it’ s a thousand small ones, made over and over again.
‘ Over the past five years, mountaineering has become one of the cornerstones of my life in recovery,’ he continues.‘ Alongside a close-knit group of friends, all in recovery themselves, I’ ve summited some extremely challenging peaks: Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, Mount Toubkal in Morocco, Mount Ararat in Turkey, Mount Musala in Bulgaria, and mountains closer to home like Snowdon in Wales.’
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LIFELONG IMPACT Our community has grown into something bigger than just a climbing group. Every March we return to Mount Toubkal for a winter edition, spending time in the Imlil valley and living with the local Berber tribes with whom we’ ve built up a strong relationship and connection. It’ s a symbolic regrouping and a way of welcoming new people into the fold. It’ s become our home base, and a place where friendships begin and stigma is broken.
Mount Ararat pushed us all to our limits – physically and
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emotionally. But we made it. Together. We returned with battered knees and full hearts, and an even deeper belief in what’ s possible.
Looking ahead, several of the group, led by Terry, are preparing for the biggest challenge yet – climbing five volcanoes in Ecuador. It’ s a huge physical ask, but we’ ve learned by now that what seems impossible today can become tomorrow’ s summit photo.
Recovery isn’ t just about not using. It’ s about rebuilding – purpose, connection, and belief. These climbs have become more than physical feats. They’ re proof that we don’ t just survive addiction, we transcend it.
If you’ re standing at the bottom of your own mountain, I’ ll say this – the climb will be hard. You’ ll doubt yourself. But you
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don’ t have to do it alone. Step by step, with the right people around you, you will rise.
MOUNTAINS AND MEANING What these mountains offer us isn’ t just altitude, it’ s perspective. We climb not just to overcome our pasts, but to build something new: belief, connection, visibility. Every climb chips away at the stigma of addiction. Every summit proves that people in recovery don’ t just survive – we live, we lead, and we lift each other.
Recovery isn’ t always about staying still and safe. Sometimes, it’ s about aiming high, holding tight to the people around you, and just putting one foot in front of the other. No matter how steep it gets.
Nicky Dwyer is service manager at Better Together – Solihull Recovery Community
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