I was born in Argentina and migrated to Australia when I was one. I grew up in Mascot playing football. Then I lost my leg in a motorbike accident. When I woke up in hospital, I had no idea what had happened. My wife told me, “You’ve lost your leg.” I looked under the sheets and realised it was gone.
There was never a day I was alone. Someone was always by my bedside, talking me through the steps. I had a strong support base, and later I got into wheelchair sports. I started helping others with similar injuries, encouraging them to join us because it’s good for your headspace.
Without that support network, things could have gone two ways. I hit rock bottom at times – turned to alcohol and drugs, and started losing my family. It got to the point where I thought, “I’ve had enough.” My relationship with my daughter was strained, and when she opened up about the trauma I caused, it broke me. I never realised the damage I was doing. That was another turning point – I needed to change, not just for me but for my family.
I lost years of good times because I bottled everything up. I thought it was embarrassing to ask for help – that I had to be strong enough to push through. But we’re not always as strong as we think. Now I can talk openly because everyone needs someone. Talk to somebody. Talk to whoever you have to. Once you get it out, it’s so much easier.
This story reflects one person’s experience. Everyone’s journey is different, and support is available if you need it.
