ALAN Izzard used to spend hours or even days on his pieces of artwork and then when he was finally finished he would rip them to pieces.

It was not a strange critique of his own work or a flippant gesture but a way of purging himself of the memory of traumatic experiences from his past. Alan, from Great Sankey, has suffered from post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) since leaving the military in 2000.

But one of his key coping strategies has been putting paint to canvass which has been an invaluable help to him at his darkest moments.

Alan, who has lived in Warrington since 1998, was a forward observer for the Royal Artillery and his 13-year career in the forces saw him serve tours in Iraq, Bosnia, Cyprus and the Gulf. It was his dream to serve his country.

The 46-year-old said: “Do you know when you get kids who want to be a racing car driver or a train driver or an astronaut? Well from a very early age it was just something that I wanted to do. Both my parents Leonard and Geraldine were in the forces and so were my granddads and my relatives before them.

“We can trace our military family history back to the 1600s. It was a dream of mine that one day I’d be in the military. Not many people get to live their dream. It just so happened that my dream was accessible and I did it.

“My oldest sister Lesley was in the navy. She joined when I was 14 and we went down and saw her passing out. We went to Yeovilton where she was based and saw the air shows there.

“Because it was my sister I got to go in and see a lot more than people would normally see so that ignited it even more for me.”

Alan started out as a junior soldier at Bramcote Nuneaton and during his time he helped move Saddam Hussein’s forces out of Kuwait.

The dad-of-two added: “It was scary at times but you get on with it. You’re there to do a job and you do it to the best of your ability and not let anyone down. We had incidents where Saddam was throwing rockets over to Israel and we’d be in nuclear biological equipment in less than 30 seconds.

“When you’re given the all clear you kind of look at each other in a bit of shock. But when you’ve done it 20 or 30 times you think: ‘Here we go again’.

“It’s what you’re trained for. My dad spent 22 years in the forces and was based in Germany for virtually all that time and was never called upon. I was in my fourth year in the forces and I was called upon. It’s something you’re constantly trained for and it’s there at the back of your mind.

“You hope it doesn’t happen but when it does you know that you’ve got the best training on the planet to fall back on.”

Alan retired from the military with an exemplary discharge but two years later the hidden effects of Alan’s tours began to surface.

He said: “Because you get trained to such a high level it is difficult to come away from it.

“When you leave the forces you get that transition of coming out of this very well-oiled machine into the big wide world. It’s a bit like coming into chaos

“I still struggle with it now and I’ve been out of the forces since 2000.

“How you work within the forces and how civilians work can be worlds apart.”

It culminated with Alan suffering a major breakdown.

He added: “I was in Hollins Park for six months and I was diagnosed with PTSD.

“At the time there wasn’t that much help out there. The system mostly dealt with PTSD after car accidents or with rape victims or acts of domestic terrorism like the IRA bombings in Warrington and Manchester.

“It’s got better. I’d like to see it improve more but it is probably 10 times better than what it was when I was diagnosed

“We had to rely on charities outside of the military like Combat Stress that understood how the military worked and the psychological injuries of that. Help for Heroes was not around at that time.

“I became incredibly withdrawn. I wouldn’t go anywhere without my wife Julie next to me. If she’d walk out the room I’d walk out the room with her whether I was needed or not because she was my safety net.

“I was suffering from flashbacks, anxiety, panic attacks and I was hearing voices in my head.

“Things like sights and smells just took me back to where I’d been and things I’d seen. It caused me to be very stressed.

“It caused me to be ‘hyper vigilant’ so if the gate banged I’d jump and I’d be cowering behind a wall because it sounded like a gunshot and I was taking cover.

“When that happens it’s fine if it’s in your own home but if you’re out in the community and somebody drops something or a car backfires or there’s a bang somewhere and you’re suddenly taking cover behind a bush you get extremely self-conscious.

“Everybody does look at you. It’s human nature and when you get 30, 40 or 50 people looking at you your confidence gets wiped out.

“I spent six months in Hollins Park because frankly I was a danger to myself and my family.

“It’s a myriad of different emotions and experiences all thrown into a mixer that’s going at 1,000mph. Then there’s you in the middle of it trying to make sense of it.”

Alan spoke to Weekend as he thinks it is important to dispel the stigma around mental health.

He is also currently exhibiting his artwork as part of The Art of Recovery at Slater and Gordon’s walk-in centre in Mosley Street, Manchester.

The exhibition features artwork by servicemen and women wounded in conflict around the world and it is available to view until May 31.

Alan, who paints about once a week, has been interested in art since he was a youngster and studied it at A-Level but he had no idea how much it would help him in later life.

He said: “My dad was a bit of an artist as well so whenever I did my doodles as a kid he would come over and give me some pointers.

“We used to do some pictures together. It was just the way we used to sit down and bond.

“I started painting again when I was at Hollins Park. I would end drawing something from my past and then during my counselling I would explain what was going on in it as a bit of an exercise to get it out of my head.

“I would then rip it up. This piece of artwork might have taken hours or maybe weeks but by destroying it, it was like I was trying to say: ‘I don’t need to worry about that anymore’.

“It was something visible that helped me explain an invisible wound.”

Alan no longer destroys as many of his artworks but they still help him cope on his bad days.

He added: “It’s one of those escapes for me. I have my good days, I have my bad days like most people. Unfortunately my bad days are incredibly bad. But over the years I’ve been able to use coping strategies that I’ve learnt from places like Combat Stress, Help For Heroes and various other support networks.

“It works. I’m living proof. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my family, my art and my golf.”