From Rock Bottom to Renewal: A Veteran’s Journey Toward Stability and Sobriety

At ECHO Housing & Community Development, we know that healing is not linear. The journey out of homelessness and into stability, especially for Veterans facing co-occurring mental health and substance use challenges, is deeply personal—and rarely straightforward. It’s not always about the destination, but about the courage it takes to keep walking forward, even if that means changing course.

This truth came into full view when I recently crossed paths with a former resident—let’s call him Mark—at the 2025 Homeless Connect event. Mark spent three years at Lucas Place II, our permanent supportive housing community for Veterans. When he first entered the program, he was struggling heavily with alcoholism and untreated mental health issues. The weight of his experiences had pushed him into isolation. Alcohol became his way of letting people in—but also a source of deep disruption, opening his door to anyone, regardless of whether they were safe or supportive.

As time went on, Mark’s situation grew more difficult. He wrestled with suicidal thoughts and strained attempts to reconnect with estranged family members. Though surrounded by support and services, Mark’s pain ran deep, and he often couldn’t recognize the help he needed—or trust it.

In 2022, after years of instability, Mark made a pivotal decision. He recognized that remaining in his current environment was doing more harm than good. With the encouragement of partner agencies and a few key people in his corner, he chose to step away. He vacated his apartment at Lucas Place II and sought help elsewhere. It was a courageous act of self-preservation—a hard and honest acknowledgment that healing sometimes requires a change in space, routine, and relationships.

Fast forward to 2025. At Homeless Connect, a community-wide event bringing together resources for people experiencing housing insecurity, I spotted a tall, confident man in the crowd. It was Mark. He looked so different—grounded, calm, and, as I would learn, two years sober. At first, he didn’t recognize me, and I didn’t press it. I could only imagine how the fog of past trauma and substance use might cloud certain memories.

But then, something clicked. Mark smiled and said, “I remember you now.” And then, with quiet pride, he told me: “I’m doing really well. I’ve been sober for two years. I’m stable. I’m good.”
My heart swelled. I congratulated him, celebrated with him, and told him what he needed to hear: we are so proud of you, and we’re still cheering you on.

His story is a powerful reminder that success doesn’t always happen inside our own walls. Sometimes, despite our best efforts, a resident needs something—or somewhere—different. That doesn’t mean we failed them. It means we were part of their journey. And if that journey leads to safety, sobriety, and self-worth, then we celebrate it.

Mark’s story isn’t wrapped in a bow. Like all of us, it’s a work in progress. But today, he’s thriving. And that is something worth honoring.

Because at ECHO, we believe every life is made up of chapters. And sometimes, just turning the page is the most powerful thing a person can do.