Boylan on the trauma driving Dublin’s addiction crisis - 'It's not their fault'

Sinn Féin Councillor Janice Boylan speaks on how working in addiction services has influenced her politics and the ways systematic social problems disproportionately impact working-class communities

News Stephen Holland Local Democracy Reporter 17:05, 31 Aug 2026 Updated 10:20, 01 Sep 2026 View Image Sinn Féin President Mary Lou McDonald TD with the North Inner City Councillor Janice Boylan (Image: Collins Photo Agency)

Dublin’s addiction crisis stems from unmet mental health needs and systemic trauma rather than personal fault says Sinn Féin Councillor Janice Boylan.

Addiction in the inner city has long been a major point of concern in Dublin , with the heroin epidemic of the 1980s disseminating communities and never truly subsiding. Speaking on a recent episode of the ‘What If You Didn’t?’ podcast , Janice highlighted how working in addiction services has influenced her political career and the ways in which systemic problems have worsened the challenges faced by working-class people.

“Most people I would have met throughout my life who ended up in active addiction , it comes from a mental health part of it, trauma, and then a need or want because their circumstances in their lives, they didn’t meet or receive the milestones, the nurturing, the stable dinner on the table when they came in from school, the routine, and that’s not their fault,” the North Inner City representative said.

Addiction is a topic that Janice is acutely aware of, as she told Tallaght-based podcaster Chris Evans that growing up she saw first hand how drugs can infiltrate families and communities. With several relatives who fell into active addiction during the 1980s, she was struck by the way her parents never turned them away and always tried to offer a helping hand.

“They never ran them from the door. If they needed anything, somewhere to stay or a bed on the couch, they’d welcome them in and want to help them. I suppose that’s where I got that from,” she said.

Janice didn’t always hold political ambitions, and said when she was in secondary school she wanted to become a nurse. Yet, these hopes were quashed by her career guidance counsellor who made her feel like the financial burdens of attending college made it an unrealistic dream for a working class teenager.

“Being 17 years old and from O’Devaney Gardens I was the type of person that would look up to authoritarian people. This was a teacher. I wouldn’t question it. I thought she knew more than me,” she said.

“I scrapped that idea. I’m angry about what I did. The Janice now would have never put up with that. I would have stood my ground and said I am doing it. I didn’t know any better.”

But that empathic nature and desire to help others shone through in other ways. Janice went on to study business in a PLC and before long was working at the Connolly Information Centre for the Unemployed on the Coombe. While this service is closed today, back then she helped people with their CVs and assisted those searching for employment.

“I realised about 70% of people in my case load were young addicts, young users. I went to my manager and said I need training in this,” she said.

Through that, Janice did a drugs awareness course and her work expanded with groups like Soalta and the Oliver Bond addiction programme. This saw her working directly with addicts and families through hospital and prison visits. “It was a very good, difficult job and every week we had to get counselling ourselves," she explained.

While this is the kind of work where it’s important to keep professional boundaries, Janice said it was very difficult not to let people’s troubles affect her own mental health. “I had to leave that kind of set up after my first baby, I wasn’t able for it,” she revealed.

“To be a new mammy and have all of this going on around you. Some of the stuff people presented to me was horrific. The conditions of the flats, the addiction spiralled, getting people straight to hospital because of abscesses on their legs. It was too much for a new mammy at that stage.”

These early career experiences highlighted the systemic problems at the core of Dublin’s crises. She saw the links and connections between addiction, housing, and mental health and it appears, without even realising it, was gaining the insights that would guide her later politics.

“The next stage actually came to me. It came knocking on my door,” she said.

This was in 2010, when her brother George spoke to her about Smithfield Boxing Club being forced out of the school hall that they had been training in. “They were going to be homeless and were asking for help.”

This was the first time Janice got actively involved in politics and started writing to local councillors and TDs trying to raise awareness about a protest they were staging. She said most people she contacted ignored her, but Sinn Féin’s Mary Lou McDonald was one of the few who got involved and together they successfully saved the still active club.

The two got to know each and before long she was asked if she’d be interested in joining the party herself. “Maybe a year or so down the line I was asked would I consider running,” she said.

Deciding to become councillor was not an easy decision and Janice mulled over the prospect for six months. “I’m glad I took that six months because I believe you need to take that consideration. I don’t know how someone wakes up on Tuesday and decides to go for an election on Friday,” she said.

Entering the council chamber for the first time was daunting and Janice said she even found herself hiding her inner city accent at first when she went to speak. “I did what my mam refers to as my telephone voice,” she said.

“Listening to them speaking in the chamber and they all had different accents to me - very refined and well spoken. I thought ‘What am I going to do? I can't speak like me in this chamber’.”

The reaction from her party colleagues was immediate. The next time Janice spoke she was true to herself and that’s something she has endeavoured to ensure ever since.

Having already learned so much from her time working in addiction services, what strikes Janice most strongly is the way politics often finds a way to dehumanise the realities of what people are facing. Seeing homes constantly referred to as ‘units’ is one thing that rubs her the wrong way.

“They are people’s homes, use the proper words. That’s a big thing with this government, they try to take the human aspect out of everything. It’s like a procedure, a formality, they don’t talk about the people behind those,” she said.

“Words mean everything. That is not to say people need things simplified, but you need to speak in a way people can understand. Calling a home a unit, you are detaching yourself. 99% of people would say the same thing if they were honest with themselves.”

Janice says that this same mentality feeds into issues of addiction, as those making big decisions affecting working-class people’s lives often don’t have the real life experience to understand what it is like for them. She believes that those from affluent backgrounds are over represented in politics and that this needs to change.

“They don’t get what it’s like. But I can honestly tell you there were times in my life sitting on Wednesday waiting for payday on Thursday. They don’t care because it doesn’t affect them,” she said.

Janice hopes to act as a voice for working class people not just in her own community but at a national level. This saw her run as Sinn Féin in the recent Dublin Central by-election. While she did not gain a seat in Leinster House last May, she explained that is her ultimate ambition as she believes “I bring a different dynamic to the Dáil” and that she will run again “if the opportunity presents itself”.

This content is funded by the Local Democracy Reporting Scheme

Want to see more of the stories you love from Dublin Live? Making us your preferred source on Google means you’ll get more of our exclusives top stories and must-read content straight away. To add us as a preferred source, simply click here .