For years, Kit appeared to have it all – a glamorous career as cabin crew and the outward appearance of success – but inside she was falling apart. “It was too painful to be me,” she says. “So, I became someone else.”
Now working at Priory Hospital Bristol, Kit is in long-term recovery. “Recovery is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she says, “but it’s given me a life I didn’t know I was allowed to live.”
Kit grew up in what she calls “functional dysfunctionality”, a home where she was constantly on alert. From an early age she felt responsible for protecting her younger siblings from their mum’s mood swings and angry outbursts. There was no space for talking or learning about feelings, so she learned to perform, to look capable, and to bury what was going on inside.
By 18, alcohol had become her escape. At university, she drank and used drugs heavily, and over time, began acting out in other compulsive ways, including risky sexual behaviour and excessive exercise regimes – all ways to avoid feeling.
Her career as cabin crew for more than a decade became the perfect disguise. She could be someone new in a different part of the world every week, a constant reinvention that hid her struggles.
But eventually, the façade cracked. Repeated absences from work due to hangovers and comedowns eventually led to her losing her job. She then moved into training and crew management, working long hours and spending up to 15 hours a week on triathlon training. She says that if she wasn’t drinking or using, she was acting out addictively in other ways.
When COVID-19 hit, everything unravelled. Furloughed and later made redundant, Kit found herself trapped in a relationship she felt unable to leave and relying on cannabis to get through each day, until she reached breaking point. In November 2020 she attempted to take her own life.
I didn’t want to wake up. I was suffocating.
Days later she arrived at Priory Hospital Woking, telling her mum she was “going to be reborn”. Early in treatment she heard a line that became her mantra: “You’ve only got to change one thing – everything.” Kit remembers replying simply, “Show me how.”
Her first impression of Priory was hope. For the first time she felt genuinely seen and heard. Staff were consistently there for her, and after years of isolation, she discovered she had an illness that could be treated and that she could also start to help herself.
Over several months, she underwent intensive treatment – first for addiction, then for complex trauma. She embraced the 12-step programme, got a sponsor and later moved into a sober house in London. Kit is now 4 years and 8 months sober, and still attends therapy and meetings weekly.
Recovery also meant facing her family history. Her father left when she was 12. Her paternal grandfather was an alcoholic. One brother died unexpectedly at 22 and another is now sober. She has had to put boundaries in place with her dad – which she describes as “one of the most difficult but loving things I’ve done for myself” – and through recovery, has rebuilt a relationship with her mum. “She’s one of my safest people now. That’s a miracle.”
Today, Kit works as a healthcare assistant on an eating disorder ward at Priory and is due to begin a counselling diploma, hoping to specialise in addiction. She says she now looks after herself physically, spiritually and mentally, and her relationships with others are authentic – she allows herself to bring her whole self.
She now speaks regularly at Priory, sharing her story with current addiction patients.
I didn’t know what honesty or vulnerability was. Now I live in a space of permission. I choose me.
For Kit, recovery is more than abstinence – it’s healing from trauma, creating authentic connections and building a life she never imagined could be hers. With Priory’s support she has broken the chain of addiction and is showing others that change is possible.
Kit sums it up simply: “I’m grateful every single day for every breath that I breathe. I wake up each morning and say, thank you.”