Imagine standing on a jetty, either side and in front there is a mirror of calm water disappearing into the distance. When you leave school there are many paths like this, but as you get older they become few. I am 50 now. One of these paths led me into marriage and raising a family – two wonderful daughters.

Within seven years, the journey on the path went from a firm footing, to wooden boards that were rotten and poorly fixed down or even missing – the relationship was getting me down. The advice was to hang in there, work at it… easy for some. We were not a couple – the emotion, the distance widening between us, we had little in common.

It should have ended in divorce there and then. The argument was for the ‘sake of the kids’, and we stayed together. We finally divorced 6 years later. The girls were 8 and 12 by then. Their mum made sure they were very disappointed and angry with Dad, so much so the eldest daughter still has no real communication with me. The youngest – well, as soon as she hit 16 she came to live with me.

In the final 6 years, I worked the same hours, just set off earlier and volunteered to work late whenever I could. I could not stand being ‘home’ – the atmosphere, the smell, the noise, the TV routine… everything felt heavy. I guess my saving grace was hobbies: they were fishing, photography and cycling, woodwork and gardening – the kind of hobbies that did not require teams. I am a quiet person – I tend to keep myself to myself, a bit of a loner, even now, but it wasn’t always like that.

My weight plummeted, from 14 stone and a 36″ waist to 10 stone and a 30″ waist – I have the trousers to prove it. This is my story – I went from a fit healthy, overweight, happy go lucky fella to a grey dull beaten man, in a matter of years. The path ahead looked broken; there was no door to see beyond. We divorced. I took with me a car and some old bed linen, the rest was left behind. My new life was the remnants of the old one.

Finding yourself alone, I mean really alone, hits hardest when, on an emotional level, what you want is out of reach. This kind of thing, men do not talk about. A high proportion of male suicides are the result of divorce and what emotionally follows – I was no different. I played scenarios in my head – behind the steering wheel was a favourite. Nights were long and hard, the body limp and lifeless. Sleep was not rejuvenating – it was broken and full of crap!

In the end it got too much and I finally opened up to my brother, and an old girlfriend who lived 200 miles away. She was going through a divorce too, so we were able then to lean on each others shoulders. Now there was a door on that jetty, a purpose, but, it was closed. I wanted to get to that door and to see beyond it. My strength to carry on came from these people, and I am indebted.

For I find myself today on the other side of that door with a richer, more fulfilling life than I had hoped or imagined in those grey days. The path I tread is firm and stable, and my inner strength helps me deal with life’s highs and lows.