I did a year in the military, then spent my working life in the mines. Long stretches away from home, away from my family, away from everyday life.

I know what that does to a person, because I lived it. You miss the birthdays, the mates' parties, the holidays, the ordinary Saturday afternoons — all the small things that make up a life. And then you come home and you're supposed to just slot back in like nothing happened. That was the part I struggled with most. Sitting at the table with people you love and feeling half a step outside of it. Trying to find your place in the normal again before it's time to leave once more.

I saw it in the blokes around me too. The isolation, the flatness, the quiet struggles nobody talked about. I understood exactly how a person ends up in a dark place, because I could feel the pull of it myself. That's what pushed me to look outward — to want something more than the cycle I was in.

That's where my fascination with the human mind began. I started listening, reading, studying — drawn to the thinkers and psychologists who had something real to say about depression, isolation, responsibility, and how a person finds their way through. Jordan Peterson was one of the first who really landed for me — the idea that you take responsibility for your own corner of the world first, and that meaning is something you build rather than something you're handed. From there I found others: Viktor Frankl on finding purpose in the hardest circumstances, Carl Jung on the parts of ourselves we'd rather not look at, Carl Rogers on what it actually means to sit with someone and let them be understood. What I took from all of it was simple: everyone has more in them than they think, and most people just need someone alongside them to help draw it out.

So I set myself a goal — to study psychology, and to bring what I learn back to the people who need it most. I'm still studying, and I'll keep going. Bettering myself isn't separate from this work; it is the work. It's also what I want my three boys to see: that you can decide on something hard and then actually go and do it.

That goal led me somewhere I never quite expected — disability support work. The jump from the mines wasn't a small one. It was one of the biggest decisions our family has made, and there were nerves and doubts along the way. But we backed it, we built it, and what followed was something I couldn't have planned for. I found my passion. Completely and utterly.

What I bring is straightforward. I bring my own interests and passions — the outdoors, fishing, camping, getting out and having a go — and I meet people in theirs. I'm the big brother figure. The mate. The bloke who turns up when he says he will and does what he says he'll do. The army and the mines gave me a work ethic and a reliability I'll always be grateful for, and that's what the people I support get from me, every single time.

Because at the end of the day, this is about helping people reach their full potential — whatever that looks like for them.

And there's nothing quite like hearing your kids tell someone with pride: "My daddy helps people."

That's Pillarstone Health. That's why I do this.

The Circle Around Us

Pillarstone Health isn't just me anymore, and that's the best part.

As we've grown, we've found ourselves surrounded by people who are in it for the same reasons. Small local businesses run by people who back their community. Other providers who'd rather pick up the phone and help than treat each other as competition. Support workers who came to us because they wanted to do this properly — people with their own passions, their own interests, their own way of connecting, who genuinely care about the person in front of them.

That's the circle we've built, and it keeps getting wider. Every new person who joins us brings something we didn't have before, and every local business we work alongside makes what we can offer a little bit better.

Because none of this works on its own. A good life isn't built by one support worker turning up — it's built by a community that shows up for each other. That's what we're part of here in the Bundaberg region, and that's what we're growing.

If that sounds like you — whether you're looking for support, looking to work with us, or just doing good things in this community and want to join forces — we'd love to hear from you.