'I Took Cocaine in the Morning and Drank a Bottle of Vodka at Night'

Like most kids, growing up I loved sugar. I would walk to my local corner shop in Harlow, a town in Essex, England, to buy candy. They cost a penny each and most children might spend fifty pence on them, but I usually bought around seventeen pounds worth. My dad had a newspaper account at the shop and I would rack up huge bills, buying endless amounts of candy and soda.

I think that shows that addiction has been prevalent throughout my entire life. Regardless of the substance, it will always take over to the point where it's all I care about. There's no space for anything else.

I had a good childhood. My parents came from nothing and worked their way up to own several art galleries, so they spent a lot of time trying to expand their businesses. They would take me to exhibitions in London and I fell in love with graffiti from a young age.

Growing up around alcohol

Our weekends would usually be spent with family at beautiful pubs, having Sunday lunch before coming home, where the adults would usually drink more and listen to good music. For me, being around alcohol and heavy drinking was normal.

The first time I tried alcohol I was nine. A friend and I had come home from a classmate's birthday party and when my parents were asleep, we stole a bottle of white wine and a bottle of rum, and drank some while watching South Park. I didn't really think much about it, I just thought it was fun. Drinking wasn't a regular occurrence at that stage.

Growing up, I was bullied by my next door neighbor for several years. It affected me massively and one day, when I was around 12, I snapped and beat him up. After that, I was kind of accepted by some of the kids in my local area, so I would go out at night and drink with them.

Drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana

After that, if my parents were on holiday or away for the evening, I would steal alcohol. Stealing became so normalized for me at such a young age, my moral lines were being blurred very early on. I started heavily smoking cigarettes around the same time.

My parents had scrimped and saved for years to send me to boarding school, but I felt like a total outsider. My family were considered "new money", they weren't rich but wanted me to get the best education possible.

At the time, my friends at school didn't do drugs, but my group back home all smoked marijuana. It was normal for us; we would go to the park on our bikes, smoke weed, tobacco and drink alcohol. We had older friends who would buy it for us, so it was readily available all the time.

At school, we drank on the weekends. Part of the fun was the thrill; the idea of potentially being caught by our teachers, there was something exciting about all of that. I liked that covert aspect of it.

I think all substance abuse is an escape. It's a solution, the problem is in your head. I believe I've always had poor mental health, ever since I was young. As boarding school progressed, I would self-harm. I didn't even know why I was doing it; I was just a confused kid. I think it was a cry for help.

My friends at school had a lot more money than I did, so by my teenage years I was staying at friend's homes in wealthy neighborhoods in London and taking drugs, like magic mushrooms and marijuana. I thought it was great.

Around the same time, I was obsessed with the idea of becoming a graffiti artist. I started stealing materials so I could paint buildings. It totally took over my life. I wasn't some prolific street artist, but it was all consuming. I would draw everyday.

Trying harder drugs

When I was 16, I did my first line of cocaine. I was at the park in Essex with my friends and I loved it. I've always suspected I could have ADHD, so for me, it felt as though it was just enhancing how I already felt, it was great.

At the time, I had a somewhat "f*** it" attitude towards life. I would try anything. That's how I perceived myself and I think that was a massive part of why I took drugs. At that point, I didn't try to source any more cocaine, but I was spending most of my time with friends at a local pub, where we could be served alcohol underage.

With the help of my mum, I somehow managed to pass my exams and get a place at the University of Leeds to study cinematography. From day one, I was taking drugs. On my first night I did a line of cocaine off the hood of a car; that set the pace for the next three years.

At one point at university, I was totally nocturnal. I would wake up at five or six in the evening and go to bed at eight in the morning. Sometimes I would go on six day benders with friends. I took drugs everyday and drank alcohol everyday. That just escalated throughout university.

After failing my first year, I somehow managed to get back on my course, but my mental state was in constant decline. I was feeling savagely depressed all the time, but I thought I was having fun. My friends and I were heavily into raving and the party scene in the city of Leeds is amazing. It was constant, everyone around me was taking drugs and getting drunk all the time. I would go out, get high and do graffiti with other students; that was our idea of a good time.

Leaving university and ramping up drug use

After leaving university, my drug use ramped up. All my friends began to settle and start their careers, but I just doubled down on partying. I got a job at a travel company, but everyday was like the weekend. I would go to the pub after work and take cocaine daily.

One day, I went into work with some coke in my pocket and did a line in the bathrooms. I knew I had crossed a line, but I didn't care. I was still living with my parents and had a girlfriend, stupidly I thought they couldn't see what was happening.

I began experiencing psychosis because of my drug use, but I had no idea what it was. I would hear whispering and think it was real or believe someone was upstairs in the bedroom with my girlfriend; I was slowly losing touch of reality.

Things got increasingly worse. I was waking up in the mornings and sniffing lines of cocaine everyday. But things really fell apart when I began working for one of my dad's galleries in east London.

Drugs were rife in the local area and I would have dealers deliver coke through the gallery letterbox. When I had sniffed so much that my nasal septum had nearly completely eroded, I started smoking crack. Alcohol and cocaine had taken over my life. It was all I cared about. I had lost tons of weight and was psychotic as f***. At one point, when my parents were on holiday, I spent six hours running after two people that weren't there while holding a kitchen knife. Some nights I would find myself in the middle of the street, wearing just a pair of boxer shorts, my feet all cut up. I was still living at home with my parents at this point, climbing out the windows to meet drug dealers and wracking up massive debts.

Addiction slowly peels back your dignity and self-belief. All your core values are just gone and your judgment is non-existent. My daily routine would be; wake up, sniff coke, go to work, take more cocaine, smoke crack, drink alcohol, say I was working late, come home, carry on taking drugs until 4 a.m., drink a bottle of vodka and pass out until 7 a.m. Then do it all again.

As my money from working ran out, my payday loans started to wrack up. It was getting worse and worse, but I just didn't care, all my dignity was gone. I was willing to go to any level to acquire what I wanted to acquire.

Committing crime for drugs while homeless

When I was around 21, I lost my job and my parents threw me out of their house. I was stealing money from them and they had to help me pay off my debts. My mum and dad have always tried to help me, but I don't blame them for their decision. I was aggressive and self-harming all the time—nobody deserves that in their home.

I briefly moved in with my girlfriend before she kicked me out and I began sofa surfing in London. That's when the sharks come; when you're homeless and in a state of desperation, nasty people can sense weakness and take advantage of you.

I started robbing drug dealers for cash. I would go into those situations thinking: "If they kill me, then this whole thing is finished. I'm out, that's cool." I was considering suicide but I didn't have the guts to do it. I would go into dangerous areas and try to get beaten up, hoping someone else could end it all.

By this point, I was still doing graffiti with mates, but I was so paranoid I couldn't even paint. I was just there. After meeting up, my friends would go home and I would go to the train station to sleep on a bench until the tube started running. After sleeping on the train, I would get up and go meet some people and we would commit robbery or find ways to get more drugs; that cycle just eats you alive, that becomes life. You become incredibly resourceful and willing to do anything to get high.

At that point, I saw no way out, being sober just wasn't an option for me. I thought I would be dead by 25. I tried to convince myself into thinking I had no problem with that. I didn't want to die, but I didn't think I was going to last.

Drugs took everything from me. By this point, I had pushed all my real friends away. Addiction is like having a twin in your brain, that only you can see, whose one goal is to kill you.

Hitting rock bottom and moving home

When I was in my mid twenties, I had a massive seizure. On the day I was released from hospital I bumped into an old friend who had just done a stint in rehab. I had cuts all over my arms and neck after self-harming. I just looked desperate. My friend told me I needed to go to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting.

That night, I got so drunk I collapsed and wet myself at a warehouse party. The next day I went back to my mum and dad's house. They took me back in and I agreed to try and get clean. I started getting better, but I always knew in the back of my mind that I would drink or do drugs again. I was constantly relapsing, but I had started working with my therapist, Rob, to try and tackle my addiction.

Shortly afterwards, an old friend visited from New York. He could see the horrific state I was in and offered me the chance to work for his animations company in Brooklyn. I was still sniffing cocaine at this point, but decided to give it a try.

One month before my trip, I went to my sister's wedding, where I met one of her best friends, Ruth. At that point, I had just given up on having a bond with anyone, but she was amazing.

Alcohol addiction while pursuing art career

I tried to get a fresh start in the U.S. and while I was clean from drugs, I was constantly drinking. After three months, I decided I wanted to pursue a relationship with Ruth, so I came home and moved in with her parents and one-year-old son, Flynn.

Soon after I moved in with Ruth, I began painting again. I started making money as an artist, but I was still drinking. I would go down to my studio in our parents summer home and drink bottles of champagne from the garage. My work was slapdash because my main focus was alcohol.

The tipping point finally came when one night, after I had spent the entire day drinking, I came home heavily drunk and argued with Ruth, in front of Flynn. I had become a person I despised; a pathetic man who was exposing a child to his problems, which in my opinion, is really grotesque.

In the morning, Ruth's sister kicked me out of their house, so I had to go back to my mum and dad's home. I was so tired at that moment. Because of drugs, I'd had two major fits or seizures, had a gun put to my head three or four times, been threatened with a machete and nearly been stabbed numerous times.

Getting clean and making art my addiction

By this point, I was just so tired. I loved Ruth with all my heart and she had really stuck by me, so I knew I had to get clean. That was four or five years ago now. As I was deciding to take my recovery seriously, we bought a house and from the day we moved in, my mindset shifted. I knew I had real responsibility, this little boy who I felt needed a father.

I needed to be that person, I needed to change. Ruth and I now have another child together now, who is one. Having the responsibility of two children, plus that human connection, is a huge part of why I remain sober today.

It's hard to describe the level of respect and love I have for Ruth and my two boys. But even through times of pure desperation, from sitting in hospital after self-harm to being obliterated drunk, she's always stuck by me, always backed me with my work and in many ways she saved my life.

When the COVID-19 pandemic hit the U.K. in March 2020, I was working with a gallery who let all their artists go when lockdown hit. With the help of my dad, I was able to reach out to various gallery owners and later that year did an exhibition in London, where several of my pieces sold.

I suddenly realized that being an independent artist is something that could work. Throughout lockdown, I dropped out of all the galleries I was working with and just really focused on my online brand. I started sending work independently, through social media, and make a real good living out of it, everything is based at home from our little hub.

Since then, I've been approached by two major galleries in London, but I'm focussing on working on an exhibition with Quantus Gallery, who spend time working with non-traditional artists, taking the snobbery out of the art world, making art accessible to everyone, and not just people with money.

I have also had exhibitions in Hong Kong and New York, with upcoming shows in Japan and Los Angeles. I went from having nothing to all that and I'm so excited for the future.

As I started to get better, I started to think about what addiction is, my head became clear for the first time in fifteen years. I realized my art could be my addiction. I suddenly realized that for me, addiction is not just an illness, it's also a gift, I just have to know how to use it. Being obsessive, compulsive, becoming addicted to things, if you can channel that into something creative instead of something harmful, you can be so powerful.

I can live in the moment and hyperfocus, so my brain doesn't wander to those dark places it used to. In my opinion, anyone with those tendencies can easily abuse them, but if you harness that ability, it's an incredible gift.

Ed Worley, 34, St Albans, is a graffiti and pop artist known as Opake. You can follow his Instagram at @opake_lwi or visit his website here.

All views expressed in this article are the author's own.

As told to Monica Greep.

If you have thoughts of suicide, confidential help is available for free at the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Call 1-800-273-8255. The line is available 24 hours every day. Beginning July 16, dial 988 on your phone to be automatically connected to the Lifeline.