Men Tell Their Stories

Coming Through

When I was a younger teenager, I never had any mental health conditions. I loved life, always had money, I left school into a fantastic job from a loving and giving family and I was very loved, Only problem was my curiosity.

I was scared of the world, most of all people, but I had an amazing group of friends. When I was 15, there was an easy, steady group of over 30 of us that used to hang about, just being teenagers and I always wanted to be with the older lads.

They made me feel safe, but they came with this need to keep up drinking and smoking. I still loved life, it was amazing I had what I thought were 'amazing friends', then one day I was introduced to this magic substance called cannabis.

I thought this scene was so 'cool'. You know that era, the early 2000s, smoking plastic-filled brown stuff in an alley, filled with dog shit, in the rain, sharing gloves, yet life was magical. I wanted more and more, but I got paranoid. This was the start of my decline into a literal chemical-fused madness.

A few years passed and by the time I was 18, I was going to a few parties. I was never into pubs, like I said, people scared me, but house parties were magical. The cannabis lost its fun, I never carried it on. At one party there was what can only be described as some ;hippy Jesus-looking dude' with a massive gold watch and an Audi outside. He became my new best friend.

His girlfriend was on the scale of a goddess. His car was worth £66,000, or so he told me. He got all his money from this white powder, I knew it was cocaine but I lied like an idiot and fell to peer pressure and had this life changing night.

I WAS GOD...better then God, in fact I felt like I could of fought God, fuelled on cocaine and beer like an 18 year old monster. I started to dabble into darkness. I was selling ecstasy by the thousand, for money to buy this white powder. The party's weren't just till 1am, now it was 4 days straight and LSD was my new found power.

Fuelled by 5 to 6 days of hallucinogenic madness, I started to develop voices in my head. I was powerful. I had invisible friends that protected me wherever I went.

I stopped selling these drugs because of my job. I was on a lot of money, but I was still dabbling in LSD and cocaine 3 or 4 times a week; in work, out of work, it didn’t matter. I was untouchable.

I developed online personalities and was believing they were real; mood swings, violence, threats and eventually I made a mistake playing around with firearms. On my way into work one day, I had voices telling me to kill people. This was my calling card. I was going insane.

There were people trying to kill me for threatening to kill them, I was so paranoid. I never had felt so scared for my own life, but the police never bothered me... not until that day.

It was a day before Halloween, but the horror I got was right in front of me! 2 CID officers, 4 armed response units and a multitude of police…I was well and truly caught. My job was lost, my freedom was in jeopardy I was looking at 8 years behind Her Majesty's walls. Shit.

My family hated me. I had cost them money and I had no job. Cocaine was still my friend though, I started selling with this scary guy from where I live. He was nice to me, obviously for my money.
I was using and using and the voices in my head were getting worse. I wanted to die all the time, but this man was going to hurt my family if he didn’t get paid. I tried to kill myself and vowed to myself...no more drugs.   

I was being watched by police online, being stop-and-searched bent my brain in what can only be said to paranoid psychotic delusions. This wasn’t the end either. A diagnosis for extreme depression, anxiety, BPD all came above, but I was on some good medication, but I was never stable.

I was introduced to volunteer work after 4 years of serious depressive episodes, idiotic overdoses and cries for help. Initially I hated the idea; “Working for no money? Who do they think I am?” It's honestly what I'd say to people.

The place I went saved my life to a point that I cannot even explain. I was helping disabled people and people with autism make friends at a party, once a week for a few hours. It changed my outlook on life. Now I'm not saying I don’t have problems, I do, but this place made me realise that my life is so much different then theirs.

Now I'm not ashamed to admit I love these people. They are amazing and intelligent and they understand some of the extreme mental stress I endure because they endure it to. Whether it's socially or within themselves, it's hard to explain.

Now I have this stability in my life, I still have the occasional drink, I love to see my friends, but I have had to cut the circle small, mostly because I couldn’t care about someone not paying a £30 weed debt and I wanted to hear about people having a new baby or a puppy, Positive things, now my life's better.

Now I'm no angel and I don’t know who, if anyone, will read this but if you do and you have drug / substance problems, please try and get help. I wouldn’t wish the scariest night or my worst day on my worst enemy.


An incredibly honest blog from Maty and we applaud the way he's changed his life for the better. It takes an incredible strength to go through what he has and come out the other side. Do you recognise elements of Maty's story? What affects did it have on you? How did you cope? Let us know in the comments below.