'I literally would not be here': how Ian bounced back from rock bottom

The four-legged friend hasn't left Ian Fletcher's side for the past year and is often mistaken for a pet rather than an assistance dog, but he's the reason Ian can face the world again.

"Basically, without Twix, there's no journey, there's no life. I literally would not be here if he, if I didn't have him," he said.

It was 1999 when Ian began retreating inwards to a dark tunnel after transitioning to civilian life from decades with the RAAF.

These days there is more support. But Ian said at the time he left, he felt "stripped of everything" - the community where he once had purpose, the mateship, feeling of pride and a place where he belonged

The stark feeling of isolation came when he was away on a training course for his new job and began chatting with a stranger while eating breakfast. But he didn't realise it was just "a polite conversation".

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The pair had been talking for around 10 minutes, Ian telling him about his work, when mid-sentence the stranger finished his breakfast and said "that's nice", and walked away.

"I felt the world just stop, it shut up ... that's when I realised I was on my own," he said. "I realised that no one cared."

And so began a spiral into anxiety, depression and PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).

"It's the first time in my life I've won the trifecta, but that's how it goes," he said. "I slowly, slowly shut down to the point that I didn't talk to anybody. I was happy just to stay at home, not going anywhere, because that became my world."

January 2024 marked a turning point for the veteran, who hit dire straits. He was 114 kilograms, drank too much, had high blood pressure and "knocking on the door for a stroke", and his marriage of 45 years broke down.

The devastation was nearly the end of the line for Ian, landing him in a psychiatric rehabilitation hospital in Toronto, NSW.

"I still remember standing on the ward, looking out the window, thinking, 'You know, I can sit back and just end it or I can take this opportunity to want help," Ian said.

"It's all very well for people to say, 'you need help, you need to do this' ... it's like they're talking a different language because it means nothing. But when I was in the hospital, I realised for myself, I needed help."

The sun began to peak through the storm clouds for Ian and shone brightly once Twix came into his life through the Defence Community Dogs program (one of many Australian organisations that train assistance dogs).

The new mate was transformative, helping Ian find confidence, pride and dignity again and acting as a social "sponge" to help start conversations when he struggles to find the words.

"Twix has my back, so I can keep looking towards the horizon and beyond ... [I] can get back into the community and be somebody," Ian said.

"The depression has always suppressed me, but he allows me to crawl through the rubble, so I can stand on higher ground and start living a reasonable life content and happy life."

For a broken man who had felt his veteran community had abandoned him, Twix gave Ian the courage to walk into a coffee catch-up morning organised by his local RSL NSW Sport and Recreation Program.

It was the pair's first outing together.

"The beautiful thing I found ... is that no one sits there and judges you," Ian said of his now regular outing.

No one talks about what they did in the force or what rank they had been; they just talk about their lives today and "coffee talk".

"I was a veteran that used to pooh-poohed the RSL ... they don't do nothing for me," Ian said.

"Part of my counselling and therapy work is to then discover, well, 'why hasn't anybody done anything for me'? Because I haven't asked. You can't always blame everybody else."

It's been a long road but Ian can finally say he's "embracing" life again. He's back training in Muay Thai martial arts, he's stopped drinking alcohol and coffee for his health, and he's socialising again - all with his Labrador mate by his side.

"In your darkest hours, you've only got to put your hand up," Ian said. "You're in a dark place, why not have a go at it, and you might surprise yourself."

For anyone who can relate to Ian's battles with mental health, he suggested a simple yet practical first step into the light.

Grab a piece of paper and write down all your achievements in the past 12 months - small or big, of any type - even tasks you've accomplished today.

"It's an incredible journey, and I'm glad I'm still here."

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