Cocaine Was the Answer to All My Problems

I didn't realise how mentally unwell I was until I stopped using cocaine. I still remember the first time I took it. With my friend in my house getting ready for a night out.

"Am I going to die?" I asked.

"No, don't be silly," she replied.

With that, I took the dusty old £20 note, shoved it up my nose, and in that moment my life changed forever.

I started using it every weekend. Social events, nights out, and even nights in. The thought of sniffing that magic white powder up my nose on a weekend was what got me through the week.

I can't remember what made me stop the first time round. As I'm writing this I'm having flashbacks to the loneliness I'd get at the end of the night, when all the coke had gone, and I'd be at home alone with my heart racing out my chest, debating if I should call an ambulance, in fear of a heart attack.

Months passed by and I was living my life fine. I'd signed up to the gym, lost loads of weight, and for the first time I was taking care of myself. Then I met a man and as we all know, 99 percent of men are bad news, and we should avoid them at all costs.

When our relationship ended I was low. I was heartbroken. I felt like complete and utter shit. We were engaged and planned to spend the rest of our lives with each other and all of a sudden, it just ended. I needed something to bring me back up. The only thing I knew was coke. I began to use it again, infrequently just to take off the edge.

At the same time, my social media presence had began to take off. People were recognising me, people were sharing my videos. They couldn't get enough. I wanted to deliver. I didn't want to let them down. I didn't want to let myself down, only now I realise, I had been doing that the whole time. I lost my job because of it. I sacrificed so much just to make other people laugh. I tell you hardheartedly those sacrifices were worth it, because I love my fans with all my heart. There are just a few things I would have done differently, and cocaine is one of them.

I don't remember how it happened, and I didn't realise what was happening until it was too late. I was taking cocaine every day. I was going to work coked out my head, meeting with vulnerable people. I was moving like a dickhead, fam. Every video I was posting on social media I was coked up. Every interaction from morning till night was me coked up, off my fucking face.

I realised I had a problem when I started cutting out my lines for the next day. I couldn't sleep until it was done. It was the only reason I would get out of bed in the morning. Looking back, I don't even know how I managed to afford it. At this point I was just a hypocrite, telling everyone else how to live their life whilst living mine in the worst way possible.

It all came to a head when I found myself in a relationship with another coke head. Our whole relationship revolved around coke. I loved it (but I never loved him), because at that time, I loved coke. He was much older than me (35, I'm 26). Our relationship lasted for a few weeks, and when I look back, all it ever revolved around was cocaine fueled sex.

At this point, I knew I had a problem. He wasn't ready to stop, I was. Our relationship broke down. It probably didn't help that his Mom was my manager at work (which I did not know when I met him, but that's fate for you). For that reason, I had to leave me job. Back then I would have said it was because I felt awkward and uneasy, but the truth is, I felt ashamed that someone knew my dirty little secret. After that, I again turned to cocaine to help prevent me falling to a low. What I didn't realise is that I had already hit rock bottom.

A couple of weeks later I took an overdose. I got carried away, and took too much. I literally thought I was going to die. My heart was racing so fast, the paramedics were surprised I hadn't had a heart attack. I remember lying in the hospital bed trying to tell myself everything was OK, but it wouldn't work. I broke down. Crying, full of emotion. I felt like I had nowhere to turn. I know I sound like a little bitch, but the only person I wanted in that moment was my Mom.

It didn't help that I had told everyone on social media about it. It probably wasn't my brightest idea, but I felt like a liar and a fraud. I wanted everyone to see the real me. I also wanted some support. I set up a page to help get me to rehab, and credit to my fans, they all supported me and helped to get me better again. After a short stint in rehab, I came home. I wasn't better, but I felt like I was on the right track. A few days later I was back on the coke. I obviously had not learnt anything from being at death's door.

Shortly after, I met my current partner. For the first time in a long time I felt like I didn't need cocaine anymore. He was good at reminding me of my strengths, and why I didn't need it. With his support, I have managed to stay clean for six months. I stayed off social media during this period as I didn't have anything to say. I really just wanted to concentrate on myself.

I always knew coming off cocaine wouldn't be easy. I just didn't realise how hard it would be. Mentally, I knew something was wrong with me. I had changed as a person. The coke had clearly had an effect on me. I remember walking across Sainsburys car park one winter evening, and my whole mood changed, like I had been possessed. I told my partner to leave without explaining why. I just told him it was for his sake.

The next day I was hospitalised under the Mental Health Act, because I was having suicidal thoughts and threatening to throw myself in front of a car. That really was my lowest point. The mental health team put it down to withdrawal from cocaine, and neglecting my mental health. I was meant to be on medication (Mirtazipine & Propanolol) for depression and anxiety. Instead, I had replaced my meds with coke.

It makes sense why I was going on like such a mad bitch. My brain wasn't being stimulated anymore. My mental health problems hadn't gone away. They were just buried under avalanches of coke. Now the coke had gone, my problems were coming back.

Thankfully, I am naturally strong. I knew this had to be it now. I knew it was time to make a change, and with that I got motivated to sort my life. It was not easy. I have put on tonnes of weight due to replacing coke with food (which I will be addressing very soon), I have lost friends, employment, and as much as it pains me to say, I have lost a little part of myself. I am no longer naive to the world. I have seen first hand just how dangerous and tempting it can be for those with vulnerabilities.

Looking back to when I took that first line and looking at myself now. I don't recognise the person I used to be. As for the person I am now, I like him. I am more accepting of myself, and I understand who I am so much more now. I have an understanding of how important and valuable a sane state of mind is. I know how to manage my mental health better now. I have experienced something so horrific yet it was self inflicted, and I look back now and think, "Why the fuck did I put myself through that?" Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

I went to hell and made it back, but that doesn't mean my fight is over. I will always be fighting now, because in those low moments, I will always remember that cocaine is just a phone call away, waiting to make all my problems disperse. I have had to learn to be patient with myself, and understand that not everything comes overnight. Most importantly, I had to learn that the only answer to my problems is me. My choices choose my situations. If I can make better choices, surely I can live a better life.