Warning: mention of drug use OPINION At the height of my cocaine addiction , I didn’t want to go on living. At one point, I found myself hooked up to a drip in hospital, having pushed myself to the brink. I thought I’d overdosed and called 999 thinking I was about to die.
Looking back, my body had just had enough of two years of near-constant abuse. I had started taking it on nights out with friends towards the end of my time at university; a casual user getting through half a gram, once a week. People think of cocaine as a drug taken to boost confidence and energy levels, and that’s how my experience began.
It was part of the night life and readily available. But by my mid-20s I was taking 2g a day, five days a week, spending £200 ($416) a time. I was still living with my parents after finishing uni, but was hiding myself away in my bedroom taking coke alone .
My life revolved around the drug. I was paranoid, actively avoiding social situations and unable to look people in the eye. When I wasn’t using, I was angry and confused.
Weak, tired and on edge, my anxiety was through the roof. The concept of quitting was so out of reach it felt like I’d fallen into a hole I had no chance of climbing out of. I was managing to hold down a decently paid job in sales, but I was wiping out my salary, maxing out credit cards and borrowing from friends and family, accumulating astronomical debts.
I was crippling myself in every way. Being £20,000 in the red didn’t register. By.