Boarding school to back alleys

  For many, sexual boundaries are fixed points — clear lines between what they will and won’t do. But under the influence of powerful stimulants like methamphetamine or crack cocaine, those lines can blur, shift, and eventually disappear altogether. I know, because it happened to me. From fear to transaction As a teenager, I was terrified of approaching women. Sober, the idea of starting a conversation felt impossible. This social paralysis left me without a “normal” pathway into intimacy. The solution I found wasn’t dating — it was prostitution. Seeing sex workers offered control, predictability, and no risk of rejection. But it also came with a heavy dose of shame. I left those early encounters physically satisfied but emotionally gutted. The drug effect on desire That changed when drugs entered the picture. Crack cocaine came first — then methamphetamine. Both are known to flood the brain with dopamine and suppress inhibition, but meth in particular is notorious ...

  I was at university, surrounded by people yet feeling completely alone. I had friends, but the thought of walking into a lecture hall filled me with a kind of anxiety I couldn’t bear. So I stayed away from classes, filling my days with drugs instead. Back then, it was ecstasy, Xanax, weed, oxy — a rotating cocktail that blurred the edges of my world. One of my friends eventually brought heroin into the mix. We used it together for a couple of months, until he decided to go to rehab. That’s when I called the dealer myself. He sold me heroin — and, along with it, some crack. I didn’t know much about it, but that night, I smoked a few rocks. And I remember thinking, I love this. Not in a casual way. Not in a “this is fun” way. It was like falling in love — sudden, consuming, undeniable. I had no idea that this “love” would turn into something else entirely: nearly ten years of chaos, loss, and destruction. Looking back now, that night was a door I didn’t realise I was open...

  I’ve worn a tailored blazer in the oak-panelled corridors of a British boarding school, the kind where history drips from the walls and expectations weigh heavier than the textbooks. I’ve flown first-class to Asia and Europe, my name on guest lists for clubs where champagne fountains were just part of the décor. I’ve sat at a table in Mayfair watching twenty thousand pounds disappear in a single night — not mine, not that it mattered. I’ve also slept under railway bridges with a plastic bag for a pillow. I’ve woken in alleyways, half-aware of a needle still in my arm. I’ve smoked crack in stairwells, chased the rush of meth and coke until my body couldn’t keep up, and taken heroin when the crash felt unbearable. People think addiction is about pleasure — mine came from a place of immense insecurity, a gnawing feeling that I was never enough unless I was high. And then there were the nights where it all collided — the drugs, the money, the sex — until I couldn’t tell which par...

   Get in touch I’d love to hear from you. Whether you have questions, thoughts to share, or just want to say hello, feel free to reach out. The easiest way to contact me is through the form below — I read every message and will reply as soon as I can.