Out of the bar, back on the right foot

If anyone got in his way, he would take any measure to get them out of it.

He grew up in a household entrenched in violence, crime and substance abuse.

He watched his mother’s addiction to alcohol spiral out of control and saw her beaten “within an inch of her life” by various partners throughout it.

Before he’d even started school — before he could possibly process the enormity of any of it — he saw relatives hauled away from his home for murder by police Special Operations Groups.

This was “normal” to him.

At age seven he was lighting his mum’s cigarettes at her request and subsequently took up the habit himself.

At nine he was allowed alcohol.

By 13 he had become a fully fledged alcoholic.

For the next 25 years, that addiction controlled his every move.

He grew up angry, with a deep-seated desire to defend his mother from her abusers, but lacked the size or brawn to take them on.

Instead, he’d get into fights at school, becoming a bully, in a play he believed was to make him feel powerful when deep down he truly felt powerless.

He drank for confidence, to quash his anxiety, and to avoid reality and the trauma he was subjected to daily.

But when he drank, he became violent and promiscuous; physically hurting people and cheating on girlfriends.

It didn’t matter if it was a family member he punched at a wedding or a partner eight months pregnant with his child he was unfaithful to, no-one was spared his damage.

He owns the bad things he’s done. He feels remorse, but he knows he can’t go back and change them, saying it “just is”.

He told his raw and riveting story to a room of captivated addicts who are in varying stages of their recoveries in Shepparton on January 31.

The date also marked one year of sobriety for the 38-year-old Melbourne man who has spent more than 15 years of his life behind bars.

He returned to the residential drug and alcohol rehabilitation home, The Cottage, where he finally found the conviction and life skills to turn his life around last year to inspire others to keep working for their sobriety, too.

The father of two — a 10-month-old girl with his current partner and a six-year-old girl whom he lost visiting rights to for a few years to a former partner of 15 years — Mr Barfoot says life now he’s clean “just keeps getting better”.

He said once upon a time the “ice pipe” had too strong a pull to go even a day without using it to return an unaffected urine sample so that he might see his older daughter.

Now he’s kicked it and the alcohol, he says his new addictions are to family life, sunsets over the beach where he lives and Coca-Cola (as he rubs his belly and chuckles).

From weighing 70kg at rock bottom in 2023, he is now eating again and weighs over 100kg.

In contrast to some addicts who must cut ties with all their former “friends” to avoid the temptation of being drawn back to old habits, Mr Barfoot has maintained some of those relationships.

He’s taken some old mates to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings when they’ve reached out ready to start their own transformations.

Mr Barfoot also makes sure he still attends meetings regularly, as well as check-ins at a rehabilitation centre closer to where he lives to stay inspired on the path he’s now choosing.

He told the group in Shepparton that he never heard people complain in those environments about how bad living clean was, unlike in the drug circles he used to move in.

“When you’re using there’s always something to complain about,” Mr Barfoot said.

Addicts may not listen to a speaker who hasn’t been through addiction themself.

Other people may not listen to an unpolished speaker, which Mr Barfoot labels himself.

But given his lived experience, honesty and a traumatic tale that has seen him arrive at his transformative crossroads, he held the room’s undivided attention for almost 90 minutes.

Listeners fired questions at Mr Barfoot at the end of the session and gave him feedback, saying they were inspired by his words, related to his story and were enthralled by his improvised presentation.

So while Mr Barfoot admits he has a history of harming others, his future is now in helping them instead.

∎ If you’re struggling with addiction, call DirectLine 24 hours a day, seven days a week on 1800 888 236.