Tag Archives: addiction

Amy Winehouse: The Untold Story

R.I.P Amy xx

 

“I loved crack and smack more than I did Amy and her the same”

The words of Blake Fielder-Civil ex-husband of the late Amy Winehouse who many point the finger at for her downward spiral into a dismal life of addiction.

Intense media fascination had surrounded the life of Amy Winehouse, which in turn fed the publics’ obsession as to what went on in her personal life to display the blank-eyed girl on-stage. I am a self-confessed onlooker and fan that consumed the many stories, dubious pictures and the shocking footage featured revealing the star smoking crack. Fuelling this intrigue was not only the controversy; it was in fact this delivery. The ‘rock n roll’ lifestyle is notoriously known for heavy drug use, many of the worlds most talented artists have been guilty of using at one point or another. Only more recently, candid video footage of celebrities caught red-handed is falling into the wrong hands. Most would expect the undeniable evidence of Amy’s behaviour to wave goodbye to her career, but actually it didn’t stop fans from queuing to see her perform – which I think speaks volumes. Nevertheless, the coverage served a purpose in the form of warning signs detecting something destructive about the Winehouse-Civil relationship. Still intrigued, like many others, at the long-term causes of Amy’s death I intently watched the documentary The Untold Story on channel 5 to shed some light.

It was the first time some of the closest people in Amy’s life were seen on camera, but one unanticipated voice was ex-husband Blake Fielder-Civil – the influence that won her heart and admits to providing the drugs in their relationship. The two’s on/off troubled relationship often became the heart of inspiration for the greatest work Amy had ever produced in best-selling album Back to Black. This truthful album not only won five Grammy awards, but was a form of emotional release from a woman her own husband depicts as ‘one of the loneliest people he’d ever met’. In the 2009 interview, Blake describes their intense passion for each other stimulated by drugs, but in the end torn apart as a result of their addictions.

Speaks a thousand words

He admits that her first dealings with hard drugs were supplied by him and it just seems Amy grew more curious to try the next high. All of this became aware by the public, when the two were photographed (right) in a horrific state which Blake continues to explain as self-harm whilst on a heavy drug binge. There it was. The truths lay bare from the man that lived the wild life alongside one of the most talented women of our generation. Aside from Amy’s demons, I hope she is remembered in the way she would have wanted; for the contribution she made to music. A unique voice, an trademark style and of course the integration of jazz/soul/R&B to create a genre that Amy delivered so well in her heartfelt performances.

Though, Amy’s untimely death is a huge loss, it should act as a caution to those who are living their lives in the same dangerous way that she did. At 27 years of age Amy had already achieved so much and probably had a lot more to give, as well pursuing her dreams of being a mother. Ambition is alive in us all; live strong to make them a reality.

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‘Facebook destroyed my relationship’

The Facebook logo

Two hundred million members around the world, are you one of them? That’s right, Facebook. The popular social networking site has become a global phenomenon and continues to strive in its success, gaining hundreds of member’s everyday. Although it is true that Facebook is a useful website to interact with people and keep in touch with friends through wall discussions and other things, it can also prove to be very unpleasant at times in the way it is used.

“It can be very dangerous at times” says Nicola Cohen, a 22 year-old student from Essex. As we sit at her local coffee shop in Chelmsford, she began to tell the tale of how Facebook ruined her relationship, lost her friends and nearly led to a failed degree. Nicola is resentful of the day she became a member of Facebook. It is known to be addictive. A previous study has found that 70% of users become addicted and sign in around 15 times a day! This is how it started for Nicola; she decided to get it because almost all her classmates had it too. Once signed up, she was amazed at some of the people she found, old primary school friends and people who she hadn’t spoken to for years. It was also a good way to see what her friends were up to, through checking people’s statuses and looking through the pictures of their eventful weekend. But it was only a matter of time before the interest in the lives of other people on Facebook became obsessive. Admitting to checking her Facebook 10-15 times a day, Nicola confesses: “It would be the only thing I would be doing if I was at home, the first thing when I woke up and even if I would be out, I would sometimes get the urge to go to the nearest internet café to sign in”. And although she had replied to comments, accepted or declined friend requests and changed her status, she would still be on the site for at least another 3 hours.

These hours would be to pry on other people, this is commonly known to Facebook users as ‘Facebook stalking’. “Nobody likes to admit it, but everyone does it. You’ll be sitting there for hours looking at pictures of the hot guy down the road and it is daft to think that it would make more sense to go and have a face-to-face conversation with the person. The insight that is gained from someone’s profile may make their personality more apparent to you and you may even feel like you know them, when really you have never had more than a two minute conversation with them.

Are you part of the statistic?

Addiction, that’s one thing, but Nicola’s problems worsened when her now previous boyfriend also decided to sign up to Facebook. Mike went through the same process of the compulsion, checking up on Nicola whenever he had the chance. “This is where it all started, the arguments. It was awful, he’d check who was writing on my wall and commenting on my pictures and every male that did would be told to stay away. I was constantly being accused of cheating, even though I knew this was nowhere near true. I had to try and prevent my male friends from leaving comments.” Of course they listened, but from hearing it, contact lessened and it seemed like they lost respect for Nicola.

“Things just got worse and worse, but it wasn’t just him that was doing the stalking. I admit I would tend to go on his profile a lot just to see if he was being completely honest with me. I found out a lot of stuff, mostly trivial, like lying about where he said he’d be and, although petty, it was the fact that they were lies.” Nicola began to feel like there was no trust what so ever in the relationship, not only did he not believe her when she said she wasn’t seeing anybody else, she realised that actually she didn’t trust him at all either. “If he can lie about minor details and be dishonest when it isn’t necessary, then who knows what he could be keeping from me. This was my general thought process.” It was time to end it, after their heavy three year relationship, they both decided it was time to go their separate ways.

Whilst all of the drama had been occurring over the last year or so, Nicola’s university work suffered a great deal. “I had been getting bad grades for the assignments I would stay up all night doing and it showed the times when things were really tough for me personally, I would be failing the coursework. And to other people it seemed ridiculous that I was letting my love life distract me, but it’s different when you’re actually in the situation yourself. When you think you’re in love, the thought of losing that person is all that matters.” It got to the point where Nicola’s tutors had noticed a dramatic change in her work, attendance and enthusiasm, not to mention the times they caught her on Facebook in the middle of her lectures. So, they got into contact with her, this is when she realised that she had let it all get on top of her.

 “I deactivated my Facebook account. I thought that would solve my problems, but I lasted two days and I just had to get back onto it to check up on Mike.” Facebook allows users to deactivate their accounts, but this can be temporary. Nicola wasn’t impressed by what she saw, people who she thought were her friends had been making bitchy comments about her, and Mike had seemed like he had moved on. Losing her boyfriend, having friends turn against her and failing her degree, Nicola was unhappy and at her lowest point.

 Psychotherapy helped Nicola get over her dependence of Facebook and with this came an understanding of what was really important in her life – herself. “I got over the boyfriend, found out who my real friends were and focused on the most important thing; my education, because it will take me where I want to be and unlock so many more opportunities for me.”

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‘Addiction’ part II

“Megan” a comforting whisper echoed in my ear, as I looked up to see a familiar face, but not one that I would ever want to see me in this state. It was my grandma Paula. Looking up to see the worry in her eyes was heartbreaking, but a look that was familiar. She had always been there for me through all my setbacks and, believe me, there have been many. If there was one woman whom I respected, whom I wished to mirror it would be her without a doubt. I held her gaze. I had so much to say, that I wanted to tell her. But no words materialised. It only took two words escaping her lips to start the tears; “Darling, why?” Slowly tears were trickling down my face, as I tried to explain.

“I didn’t think. I can’t explain. It was the only way I could see out…” I said sobbing.

“You know this wasn’t the way to do that. Look what you’ve done to yourself and…” she paused, struggling to compose herself.

The disappointment that I could feel was unbearable and I could see I had failed her once again. A stupid mistake? No. Worse this time.

After a long silence grandma Paula finally asked: “So, come on, what was it and was it worth it?”

“I don’t know” I answered dismissively.

“Do you think I’m stupid?! The doctors have already told me what you’ve poisoned your body with. I just wanted to hear it from you; I thought you owed me the truth at the least.”

“You know. Usual and I’m not really sure what else.”

I was so ashamed at the substances that I couldn’t even bring myself to say it, not to her and the worst thing was I didn’t even know what I had or hadn’t taken. The state I was in before going to that place almost determined the outcome, but I never thought it would be this bad, ever. My Nana sat beside me. The look in her eyes turned from hurt and disappointment to sympathy, as she turned and said: “I knew you weren’t dealing with it very well, but this. I’ve never turned my back on you no matter what foolish mess you’ve got yourself into.”

I knew she was right. I couldn’t say a thing. My flippant responses were the only thing I had. I couldn’t show it but inside I was devastated. Her eyes met mine instantly she could tell.

“I found the letter” she said.

“What letter?” I asked, slightly unsure.

“The one you hid under your bed, from the hospital telling you about the first scan.”

“I won’t be going to the hospital for any scan now will I. There is no baby.”

There it was. Those words. I uttered them, as if it was nothing. As if I felt nothing. But the grief was excruciating, it felt as if every emotion inside me had been challenged, by this consequence that I just couldn’t take. My parents had given up on me, years ago. I turned self-destructive, seemed to meet the wrong kind of people along the way. Got into drugs, at first it was only marijuana and then I would be trying everything. One word. Addiction. Joe, I thought he cared about me, but junkies don’t make good friends. We got close you could say, in the way that he got me pregnant and ran a mile when I told him. He could never have been a father, seventeen and an addict.

“What have I done?” I murmured, as the realisation hit me like a wall.

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‘Addiction’: extract of short story

I never thought the day would come when it would catch up with me. My legs were still shaking from running as I stood in the alleyway attempting to get my breath back. The night created a blanket around me and I began to feel a slight tingling in my leg as I regained a comfortable sense in my pause. It was time to start moving again. I looked once more behind me into the road. No cars were streaming past, and no sign of any pedestrian life in a while.

It had to be a dream. I pinched myself. Nothing. It was confusing to think this was reality. I couldn’t believe what my life had become over the past two months. When was I going to wake up from this can of worms I so unwillingly unleashed?

My head throbbed as I continued my pace down the alleyway. There was still an immense sense of urgency in my mind, although my surroundings presented no evidence for my fear. It was mind-numbing. A force of confusion took over my body and I tripped slightly. I was trembling from my memories of the day. A hot flash; and suddenly it all poured out in a sticky red puddle around me. I wiped my mouth, and hit the floor, unconscious, if only for a second.

And then my mind regained consciousness and my eyes fluttered open, watering. Masks of turquoise green stood tall above me. Imposing eyes and fiddly hands. Some kind of intricate work taking place on my body. That mind-numbing feeling returned, with a friend called Pain that invaded every inch of my body until I was as stiff as a mummy.

Another needle later and a brief pause that seemed to have lasted longer this time and my eyes were once again open. The room was calm. The whistling of the caretaker down the corridor soothed me, as he mopped peacefully. Nurses sluggishly went about their business close by and a weak elderly man groaned in the bed beside me.

My head was full of memories, none of which made sense. Nothing came to me from my surroundings. I was lost in a floating bed in some sort of powerfully soothing paradise. The white whirls of the walls caved around my head creating ever-making shapes. The nurses’ faces smiled like angels sent to protect and heal me. I felt secure here, happy. It was a place where I knew good things happen, almost miracles.

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