My name is Paul and I am a Cocaine Addict.

I was born in Liverpool, the second son in a family of five boys and one girl. My father was a Liverpool dockworker who used to come home from work via the pub every night. I remember my parents would fight physically, and more often than not my Dad would be so drunk my Mum would win. My elder brother used to climb out of the window and go to the phone box at the top of our street. Using a false name he would call the police to report a disturbance at our address then calmly climb back through the window and go to sleep. I knew the effect alcohol had on people I had seen first hand the destructive nature of drunkards and I swore I would never drink and I would never be like my Dad. I was going to be famous a rock star or an actor. I didn’t really mind which, just rich and famous.  Around the age of twelve my best friend’s Dad was different. He owned the local chemist shop…Hmmmm. My friend and I used to sneak his father’s keys late at night when every one else was asleep and we would read from a big blue book which listed illnesses of every kind and what drugs should be prescribed for each malady. It also listed what the side effects of each drug were. These side effects where of most interest to us and we experimented as often as we could. By the age of fifteen I was drinking alcohol because we discovered it turned on the side effects quicker.

I had moved out of the family home by the age of seventeen. I found my parents really cramped my style. I moved to Southport to work on the fairground. Phrases like “The louder you scream the faster you go” and “When the red light flickers hold on to your knickers” became my catch phrases and my drinking became a daily habit. My favourite drug at this time was speed. I had discovered it in slimming tablet form in earlier years but was now was buying it seven grams at a time in powder form. I loved it.  I could drink as much as I wanted never GETTING DRUNK, staying up for seventy odd hours at a time and then finally having sleeping tablets on the third night to knock myself out. Life was very full and I could see no harm in living life with the sole purpose of enjoying every single minute of it. Of course the side effects of this life style was waking up in police cells occasionally, or waking up with broken bones or other not so easy to fix ailments that required hospital treatment. At this time encounters such as these were “par for the course” or “occupational hazards” and I always bounced back very quickly. I did everything very quickly. I lived in squats or stayed in the “Crazy Cottage” or “The Pirates Caves” at the fairground. Paying someone rent was not my style. I HAD MUCH MORE IMPORTANT THINGS TO DO WITH MY MONEY. Someone brought a gram of cocaine to a house I was in. I was totally unimpressed “How Much? £60 for that, you must be f***ing joking!” I didn’t ask about see or hear about cocaine again until ten years later.

I was sacked from the fairground for Gross Misconduct. I claimed unfair dismissal and settled for £1300 out of court settlement. It was 1981 I was 20 years old and the plans I had for that money were carefully thought out-- fantastic plans. Deposit for a house. Holiday. New motorbike. It was gone in three weeks with nothing to show. Only great stories of how I had spent it. Grandiose, yes I was. I worked for cash in hand for a rival fair ground company. I worked hard I showed the company who sacked me what a mistake they had made. I lost my driving licence for drunk driving. Heroin came to town.  My dealer friends started to use it first. The first time I saw someone inject it, it made my stomach turn I had to look out of the window to save myself from vomiting. But then the cat crept in and curiosity got the better of my common sense. I wouldn’t inject heroine. I would just chase it. I would only inject speed, that way I knew I was not a junkie. I hope you are with me here. I was injecting speed two or three grams a day chasing the dragon, drinking alcohol, and popping pills. But my great mind told me because I was not injecting the smack I could not be a junkie. I met the girl of my dreams. There had been many girls but none like this. It was Love. We moved to London together and she went to art school. My first job was in a cemetery. I didn’t know any one to get drugs from. I was clean. I drank every day and there were arguments. Within six months I had hooked up with dealers; within two years I was back into the needles.  The girl left me. I lost the Job. I lost my home. I went to Turkey for a vacation and took my guitar with me. I got work-playing guitar in beach bars so I stayed there ten months longer than originally intended. No drugs, just drink all day everyday. At the end of the season they threw me out.  A girl I had met whilst in Turkey met me at Luton Airport. She had been made redundant from a job, she had cash. She bought me a new motorbike. I stayed with her. She didn’t do drugs; she didn’t know how much I had done in the past and she wouldn’t have approved if I had told her, so I didn’t.  She got pregnant…Aaaaaaaarrrgghh. I demanded she was to have an abortion, she would not. I got a job building loud speakers; this got me access all areas at concerts. This is when I was reintroduced to cocaine. Backstage, Champagne, Cocaine…It was fantastic……Yes I had arrived. Over the next 8 years I used more and more.  By now I had three kids. They lived in our family home with the girl from Turkey whom I had married. I loved them but I seemed to be more interested in impressing total strangers than showing an interest in their wants and needs. I went home less and less. I preferred to stay at work, which was far enough away from the home that my wife believed me when I said I was working late and it was not worth me coming home. When I did go home I would have to try and sleep off the days I had been using at work. I had to drink heavy to knock myself out. Although I never physically hit my wife or the kids, I was very controlling. They had to do everything I said to the letter or I would fly of the handle and storm of to the pub. My wife had no idea I was using coke. Her father was dying of cancer. He was concerned for his only daughter’s safety. I assured him there was nothing wrong with me. It was his daughter; she was driving me nuts. No, of course I was not using drugs. How dare he suggest such a thing. He died. My using was no longer backstage. I used alone staying up all night at work looking at porn. Hearing helicopters most of the night; looking through gaps in the curtains for hours thinking I was being watched; I was scared, paranoid so I used more.  The money started to become a problem. All my credit cards where up to their limit. I had taken out two separate £15,000 pound unsecured loans. I was in the middle of applying for a second mortgage. My wife knew nothing of my debts. I attempted suicide twice. I had been laid off from work for a month to “sort myself out”. My boss told me if I didn’t slow down on my drinking I was in danger of becoming an alcoholic. My elder brother, the one who used to climb out the window to call the police, died from a cocaine induced heart attack. How could that be? He didn’t use a fraction of the amount I used. We buried him and I swore I would stop. I knew I was going to die if I didn’t. I went to a twelve step fellowship and thought the people were strange. I stopped for a few weeks. They talked about GOD Aaaaarrggghhhh. I didn’t listen to what they said. ‘Get a sponsor…work the steps…” No, not me. I was different. My problems were so much deeper than theirs. They didn’t understand. I started again.  My wife had found out about the money. She also heard me chatting up an older woman whilst she and my kids were upstairs in bed at a friend’s house. She filed for divorce. I knew I had to stop. I wanted to stop. I had tried to stop but I could not.  My boss told me he had to let me go from the job. Tears rolled down his face. I had used that morning. I didn’t know it but that was to be the last time I was to use any mind-altering chemical. It was Thursday 11th October 2001. I went to that other fellowship that night and Friday night and Saturday night where a lady said “Paul why don’t you go to C.A.? You keep talking about Cocaine go to C.A.” She told me where a meeting was on Sunday morning. I went and I knew I had found home. I got a sponsor I worked through the steps with him. I have been clean and sober since. I thank God for C.A. every day. I have the old job back. I am still married. I have a wonderful relationship with my kids today. I feel today the way I have wanted to feel all my life. I thought using would make me feel like this but it did not. I thought money and prestige would make me feel like this. It did not. The fellowship and God, that’s what makes me feel whole and worthwhile as a person today. Today I know everything is going to be OK. Today I know I need never use again so long as I carry on doing what I have learned. Today I live life to the max One Day at a Time

Thank you for letting me share.

Keep the Faith

Luv’N’Stuff

Paul

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