The Builder’s Secret Life

John was a builder with a secret

The Builder’s Secret Life: A Case of John

John was a man of routine. At 68, he had settled into his retirement with the quiet dignity of someone who had earned his rest through decades of honest, hard work. A retired builder from North London, John had lived a life that, on the surface, seemed straightforward—married young, raised a daughter, and worked tirelessly to make a good living. But behind the façade of an ordinary life lay a secret that would shape his later years in a way he could never have imagined.

John married Joanne when he was just 20 years old. A lively, beautiful woman with whom he shared a daughter, Chloe, born two years after their wedding. John had embraced his role as a husband and father, working long hours to provide for his family. He took pride in the homes he built, the strong walls and roofs he constructed. But, as solid as the houses he built were, his personal life was far more fragile.

Loss of loved ones

When John was 28, Joanne left him. It was a departure that took him entirely by surprise. He had seen the distance growing between them, but he hadn’t realised how deep it had gone. There was no major blowout, no affair or betrayal. Joanne simply walked out one day with his daughter in tow. The divorce followed swiftly, but the wound left in John’s heart would take far longer to heal.

“I think I didn’t know how to be alone,” John told me, years later. “I’d been with Joanne since I was a kid, and then suddenly, she was gone. I just felt…empty.”

For a time, John threw himself into his work. The physical labour of building gave him a sense of purpose, a way to channel his pain into something productive. But, as he would later admit, the loneliness gnawed at him. A close friend, sensing John’s despair, introduced him to cocaine one night at a party. John had never been one for drugs, but that night, the sharp, euphoric rush of the cocaine was like a lifeline, a brief escape from the emotional void inside him.

Drawn into binges

Along with the drug came a world John had never imagined. In the coming months, he was drawn into a cycle of binges that paired cocaine with sex workers—an intoxicating combination of pleasure and oblivion. Every few months, John would disappear into this world, spending thousands of pounds in a single weekend on drugs and sex. His binges were intense but sporadic; he would go months without indulging, only to be pulled back by the lure of that numbing high.

This pattern continued for ten years. To the outside world, John was still the dependable builder, raising his daughter, working hard, and keeping up appearances. But in the shadows of his private life, he was falling deeper into this cycle of escape and excess. The binges never became more frequent, but their impact on his life was undeniable.

A new beginning?

At 40, John met Karen. She was kind, steady, and for the first time since Joanne, John thought he might have a chance at something resembling normalcy. They moved in together, and John hoped that his life would finally settle into a comfortable rhythm. But the relationship, though companionable, was never intimate. There was always a distance between them—a wall, invisible but solid, that John couldn’t break through.

As the years passed, John continued his twice-yearly binges. Each time he indulged, he felt more guilt, more shame, and more distance from Karen. The pattern had become so ingrained that John began to wonder if it was something he could ever break free of. He still felt in control—he wasn’t addicted to cocaine in the conventional sense. He didn’t crave it daily or even weekly, but when those urges came, they were irresistible.

Retirement

By the time John retired, the toll of his secret life had become undeniable. The physical demands of his job were gone, leaving him with too much time to think, too much time to feel the weight of his choices. The binges were tearing down the final barriers of his relationship with Karen, and John found himself increasingly isolated. It was during this time that John sought help, reluctantly walking into a local drug rehabilitation centre.

At rehab, he quickly realised that his problem was different from those of the surrounding people. He wasn’t living with the daily agony of addiction, but there was something deeper, something emotional, that drove him to those binges. “It wasn’t the coke I was after,” he said. “It was the escape. I just didn’t know what from.”

Going to therapy

John began to explore the idea of alternative therapies, which is how he eventually found his way to me. When we met, he was eager, if not desperate, for a change. We talked about his life, his patterns, and his relationships. What became clear was that John’s problem wasn’t just a matter of addiction; it was about unmet emotional needs. This insight became our starting point.

Using the framework of Human Givens Therapy, we began to explore the emotional needs that John hadn’t been meeting in his life. He wasn’t addicted to cocaine itself, but rather to the temporary satisfaction it gave him—the fleeting sense of belonging, excitement, and escape from his loneliness. We identified the fundamental human needs that had been lacking in his life: security, attention, intimacy, and connection.

Over time, we established a plan of action. John’s therapy focused on helping him develop healthier ways to meet those emotional needs. We looked at his relationships, both past and present, and worked on strategies to build deeper, more authentic connections. The binge pattern began to unravel as John learned to replace the temporary high of cocaine with more sustainable sources of fulfilment.

Using hypnotherapy

We also used hypnotherapy to reframe his subconscious associations with cocaine and sex. By accessing the subconscious mind, we could address the root of his compulsions and help him build a new internal narrative—one where his needs could be met without the destructive behaviour that had plagued him for so long.

In time, John’s binges became less frequent, and then, eventually, they stopped altogether. It wasn’t a sudden transformation, but a gradual shift as John learned to live a life that met his needs in a healthier way. He rekindled his relationship with Karen and found a peace that had eluded him for so many years.

John’s story is one of resilience, of a man who, after years of hiding in the shadows of his secret life, finally found the courage to face himself. In doing so, he discovered that the greatest construction project of his life wasn’t a building, but the rebuilding of himself.

Also see: Changing behaviours