The Bishopton Ladies goalkeeper and Street Soccer charity coordinator Sarah Rhind is emphatic about how integral football has been to her survival. “I can wholeheartedly say that without it I wouldn’t be in the position that I’m in now – if I was even lucky enough to still be here,” she says. “There’s been different times in my life where football showed up and was really a platform that saved me.”

The 42-year-old is speaking in Glasgow after the publication of her autobiography, Scars Under The Jersey. The book details Rhind’s battle with heroin addiction, which took her into the darkest places, her recovery and the role football played in it, with Rhind going on to earn promotion to the Scottish top flight with Hamilton Academical in 2021.

It is a striking twist in Rhind’s story that before working for Street Soccer she was a participant in its free sessions, aimed at assisting at-risk and socially disadvantaged people.

“In early recovery I struggled,” she says. “There were times when I wanted to use, but I had Street Soccer on Tuesdays. There were times where I’d come through a really rough weekend, struggling with thoughts of using and relapsing but hadn’t done it. There were many times where the reason was literally: ‘If I use, I can’t go to football on Tuesday.’

“Football showed up in so many different ways in my life. It’s created so many incredible opportunities and beautiful lifelong friendships and support networks. Just being part of it, having that sense of belonging, having a role and a purpose and knowing your team needs you, that you do a job that’s important and that not everybody can do, gives you so much self-worth.”

Beyond the addiction journey, there is much readers will be able to relate to. The lack of understanding around and support for her undiagnosed dyslexia and her struggles at school are prominent. She has written the book herself despite an education system that has historically given up on those who do not connect easily with traditional teaching methods.

There is the impact of loss and the all-consuming grief that can accompany it. Then there is the window Rhind opens into her mind as self-harm becomes a coping mechanism and a relief. She details her slide towards addiction and what span through her mind during that time.

“My mind is 24/7 from the minute I wake up to the minute I go to sleep at night; it’s 20 tabs open and they’re all about different things,” she says. “That’s draining and challenging but I found early on that when I was on the pitch and playing football the focus was just on that, because that was most important. It’s like a transition happens. I get my boots on and step on to the pitch and I find it is the only place that I am able to leave the mental noise. It picks right back up as soon as I leave the pitch, but it is amazing to just have a space, a bit of respite.

“When you’re in recovery and you’re going through so many difficult thoughts and emotions, grappling with your entire history up to that point in different therapies, having something that just cuts you out from it a little bit is freedom.”

Rhind, who represented Scotland at the Homeless World Cup in 2015, enjoys giving back via Street Soccer. “The biggest reward in my job is to see the small changes in the players that I work with. It could be the first time that somebody makes eye contact with you, or that you just see them walking a bit taller, or they score their first goal and both teams celebrate that and you see the immense togetherness of it, or you see them start to believe in themselves for the first time.”

A particular focus is opportunities for women, particularly of her age, who she says have “missed out so much” compared with the girls benefiting from the growth of the women’s game. “I hear all the time: ‘I’m not fit enough, not strong enough, I can’t play football.’ I say to them that doesn’t matter. When did society become so about having to be really good at something that you can’t just try it or to have fun with it?”

Football provides “a space to start conversations too”, she says. “It can be very hard to sit down across the table and speak to somebody because it’s an uncomfortable thing to do; you feel exposed. A tool that I use when I’m supporting players is to say, depending on the situation: ‘Come on, we get a ball, we go out on the pitch or we’ll go for a walk.’ It takes the focus away from them, there’s something else they’re focused on, and then it organically allows for the conversation to open up.”

Conversation and connection are key, and these are aims of her book. “It’s my truth. I always thought back about what my younger self needed and what I had needed coming into recovery: it was the truth, it was people being wholeheartedly honest and helping you to feel less alone. We all go through struggles and if people find it hard to be honest and open about that, then that’s something that I can do. I can share my story and hopefully that helps one person along their way.”

Writing the book was “cathartic” for Rhind, the idea having percolated since her aunt made the off-the-cuff suggestion. “I never really believed that it would go anywhere but my computer … It was really tough at times – there were times where I had to put it down – but also it was just such an incredible platform for healing. I became hyper-focused on it. I had to write. It became a need.”

At times she wondered whether the world was ready to hear some of the most brutal aspects of her journey. “I’ve had a few people say that there’s bits in it that are hard to read, a bit raw or a bit graphic, but I tried to do it in the right way, going into detail on some bits but not going into too much detail on others. I also wanted it to be real.”

One moment was particularly difficult to put down in black and white. “It had taken me a couple of weeks to actually be able to write a sentence out about being suicidal,” she says. “I genuinely didn’t accept I was until I eventually got brave enough to write the word. I was writing out paragraph after paragraph and then rewording and dressing it up, but I hadn’t been able to call it what it was.

“Then I just wrote it and I remember it so clearly: I just sat and looked at that sentence and realised what a powerful form of therapy that process had been. The healing that I’ve got out of this book is incredible. It gave me my life back. It helped me find a way forward through darkness.”

Recovery, though, is a process. “Life is hard and that’s always going to be the case; things are going to keep happening,” says Rhind. “But, hopefully, I can keep building my toolbox of coping mechanisms for dealing with those things when they come, and keep talking.”

Scars Under the Jersey by Sarah Rhind is published by BackPage Press.