When I was in my early twenties, I was very career focused. It seemed there was nothing I couldn’t do – I was fearless. There was no challenge too great. It was this fearlessness that introduced me to heroin. Sure, I had taken other drugs recreationally – smoked pot, taken the odd E and speed, so heroin was just another experience waiting to be experienced.
This fearlessness had served me well. I was 25, living in Sydney, Australia, announcing at Triple J radio station at night, and working as a production assistant in current affairs in the day. This was quite an achievement for someone who hadn’t even finished Year 10 at high school, and who had just decided on a whim that I was going to work in radio. And it was a whim too. I never really knew what it was I wanted to do, and still don’t. Radio just seemed like a good idea at the time. I had all the qualifications; I could talk, was overly confident, had a sense of humour and was in the right place at the right time. That’s probably why I had to sabotage it all. It had all come too easy.
Although nobody spoke about it openly, drugs were widely accepted in the industry. The network news director was in rehab for cocaine addiction, on full pay. The announcer who was on the shift before mine was literally physically taken off air one night as he was babbling uncontrollably in an amphetamine blur. So my heroin addiction was barely even noticed.
At the time I thought it was fun; you know; “rock n roll”, a dabble on the dark side. I felt life was too boring and predictable, and needed spicing up. My goal was to shoot up in every toilet at the ABC if possible. It became a game. Towards the end, I was even shooting up in the on-air studio whilst on-air! The last shift I ever did I was absolutely smashed. I had organised a friend to go and score and then bring it into the studio.
We had a taste while a music track was playing and got extremely stoned. I had to shake my friend awake every time I wanted to do a mike break as he was nodding off and snoring very loudly. Eventually I nodded off too and woke up to “dead air” that had apparently gone on for so long that the guys in the master control room (the room at the ABC that controls all networks around the country) had switched on the emergency back-up tape that usually only went on when the studio had crashed. Well, it had really, and my Radio career with it.
In the end it was my decision to leave the ABC and return to Brisbane.
If I hadn’t admitted to my boss that I had a drug problem, and ignored
it like everyone else was able to do, I would probably still be there, if
I wasn’t dead. Only once I asked for help, did it become a real problem
for those around me. The stigma of heroin was too great for them, and the
sooner I was gone the better.
Now, I’m living back in Brisbane and I’m on the buprenorphine
program. Things aren’t as exciting as they once were and I’m
not as fearless as I used to be. But I’m learning to deal with those
fears one day at a time. And my next career move? I think I might go into
politics… I’ve got all the qualifications.
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