I was a hopeless addict for 20 years, yet barely missed a day of work and had four children. This is the reality of the drug everyone says they will never touch

When you ask people about the drugs they experimented with in their youth, you often get a response along the lines of: ‘Oh, I tried everything… except for heroin.’

Well, that drug, the one everyone vows they won’t touch, consumed my life for 20 years.

When I tell people I was a junkie, they picture someone lying in a gutter or shooting up in an alley. While the stereotype might be true for some addicts, my experience was different. I held down a full-time job for decades during my addiction. I made good money, too.

I was always able to function and even learn new skills while using heroin in my late teens. When I got married at 25 and had two kids, nothing changed. If anything, it escalated.

I was good at my job and was a first-class welder, so never had any problems at work. Later on, I ran my own business and – incredibly – managed to keep the money rolling in.

My problem was when I clocked off work at 5pm. When you’re an addict, the more money you have, the deeper you spiral.

While we appeared like a normal family, I was scamming, stealing, manipulating and doing horrible things to feed my habit. And I was completely oblivious to the harm I was doing to my loved ones.

Heroin numbs you. It takes away all your feeling until you’re living in a foggy cloud of nothing. You’re not quite in reality; you’re always numb. It’s a place of no pain, no happiness.

There were periods when I could barely get out of bed, but I still had to work so would manage to drag myself there. Looking back, it’s a miracle I kept things together for so long, but eventually it all came crashing down.

How it began

Heroin started taking over my life when I was 19. My addiction landed me in jail, saw me overdose three times and had me in and out of hospital for years.

But let me take you back to the start.

While most other kids were focusing on school, I was trying different drugs. I started smoking marijuana and drinking alcohol at 12. From 14 I was using every day. I started taking acid and selling it at 15.

I left high school that year and started a four-year apprenticeship to become a boilermaker in Brisbane, which I managed even while getting high. I progressed to intravenous drug use at 17, and by 19 found heroin.

I used it as often as I could. Whenever I was going through a hard time or felt lost, drugs were the solution. Before I knew it, my life revolved around heroin.

Meanwhile I was treating those around me terribly, as if I were a man possessed.

Human beings became like objects to me, and I never considered the consequences of my actions or the harm I was doing to others.

Our author, who chose not to reveal his name, spoke bravely of his lifetime of addiction

I started stealing money – the most I ever took was about $7,000 – and at 19 I was caught robbing a post office and was charged and convicted.

Theft helped support my habit, and when you’re so far into addiction you’ll do whatever it takes. I would steal from anybody – even my own mother, whom I robbed regularly.

I didn’t realise I was hurting people mentally, emotionally and physically with my crimes. Today, I agonise over what I did and the trauma I caused, but at the time I was blind to it.

I went to rehab at 24 and spent 10 months there. It had got to a point where I was seriously unwell from mixing drugs – I was combining pills, heroin, weed and alcohol daily – but I was eventually kicked out for breaking the centre’s rules.

At 25, I met the woman I would marry. She had two children already, and we would go on to have two of our own. Those four kids were my everything, but my heroin use didn’t stop. It was always a beast lurking in the shadows.

We would have dinner together, get the kids ready for bed and I would read them a story before they went to sleep. But once the lights were off, I would take drugs to unwind.

At 29, I was sentenced to four years in prison for armed robbery, but only served two. I was released on bail and started reconnecting with my wife and kids again. I also rekindled my toxic relationship with heroin.

The struggle to get clean

As my drug use worsened after prison, my biological children, then two and four, were taken away to their grandmother’s for their own safety, and I returned to rehab for another year.

I really tried to turn my life around and quit drugs. The support groups and programs did seem to work. When I was able to kick the habit, life was good and I felt like I could see light at the end of the tunnel.

But when I was just 24 days shy of two years’ clean, I relapsed. I bought heroin, cooked it and shot up. Overnight, the cycle of drugs, lies and crime resumed.

That relapse continued for nearly six years. I lost it all again – my wife, my kids, everything.

Here’s the part that will shock you. During that whole time I was running my own business. I was working, balancing the books, doing my taxes and generating steady income.

My professional life may have trundled on -miraculously – but my personal life was a mess. I hit rock bottom at 40. I was homeless, jumping between men’s hostels.

One night I went to the train station and was standing on the edge of the platform preparing to end my life by jumping in front of an express train.

I looked up at the night sky and screamed out to a God that I didn’t believe in when a vision of my kids appeared in front of me. It was so vivid and powerful it brought me back from the brink, as if they were telling me: ‘Don’t do this – we need you here.’

It was a moment of clarity when I needed it most. I took a step back and walked away.

The next day I went to the methadone clinic and was an emotional wreck. I was a 40-year-old man bawling my eyes out saying, ‘I’m going to die. I need help’. That was the start of my recovery, although it still took some time for me to finally stop.

My first day clean was April 7, 2011.

I try to live along spiritual rather than religious lines. I encourage a belief in a greater power, but whatever that power is, that’s entirely up to you.

Now I’m 54 and know my past doesn’t define the person I am today.

When I sought help, they dissected my whole life piece by piece, leaving no stone unturned. We went through my entire life’s inventory, speaking about relationships, emotions, sex, everything.

Part of that was recognising that I had to make amends, and that my soul was sick and in need of cleansing.

One of the greatest gifts of getting clean is having a relationship with my children again.

We love each other, have a great bond and I’m motivated to be the best dad I can be. Despite my past, I won’t let it define me or my future. I’m a decent man today, a good dad and grandfather to three beautiful grandchildren who know nothing of my past.

One benefit of being in recovery for so long is you feel distant enough from the person you used to be to carry out a forensic examination of what made you an addict in the first place.

I now know I was hurting, felt abandoned and unloved, and never believed I was enough. These feelings are normal, but when you don’t learn to deal with them, you push them down and self-medicate.

Today, I have a toolkit of coping strategies to help me process whatever it is I’m feeling. I read, meditate, pray, and know that sometimes life just happens.

I hope whoever is reading this knows they’re not alone, and maybe my story can inspire them to seek help and make their way out of the darkness.