Cultureshock

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Video transcript

Age nine, Christmas Eve, Mum in hospital giving birth to my little sister. New life beginning, thought mine was ending. No one to help me put cookies and brandy out for Santa. No Dad there to help me, he was out till early hours, wetting the baby's head. Things got worse when I'd opened all my presents and the one thing in all the world I wanted was a pair of roller skates.

Until my Dad told me to go to the front door and as I pulled the curtain aside, there was a sports bag there and to my delight there was a brand new pair of roller skates. Mam was forgot about in seconds. I learnt to skate by putting one on and practicing like that, till I could skate with two. They were adjustable so that I could change them to fit my shoe size. Very reluctantly I'd let my friends wear one so we had one each. Believe me, I had plenty of scraped knees and elbows, forever falling over but always getting back up, Mam putting plasters on me then away I went again.

That's how I thought my life would be, similar to being on skates, falling down but always getting back up again, wiping myself down and walking away with a smile. Then came a time when I was twenty-five and when I fell, I fell hard. In fact, only this time I couldn't get back up or fix it with a plaster. I was stuck. The Devil in all its glorious form had shown its face to me- heroin.

For seven years my life just flashed past me. It was a bit like being on roller skates, where you're going that fast, things are a blur, flashing past you, walking about in a daze. One day moulding into the next, the fear, the loneliness, the depression, every day the same. Wishing for the days when I was a little girl. Even for that one Christmas day when I got my skates, when I thought I had all the troubles of the world on my shoulders and my life was ending. Yet again, if only I knew. But what's the use of wishing for something that was impossible. The only way I could change and get the devil out of my body and soul was to do something about it myself. I don't have very many memories of the past seven years, too much of a blur, so I'm going to put my skates back on, go slow and do something about it. I'm just hoping they fit.

Hard at first, flash backs, feelings of guilt of things I'd done wrong, ashamed. When would I ever be that happy little girl again? I started a methadone programme but still had my slip ups. I couldn't cope with reality. Then I started 'The Back to You', and the title says it all. I was gradually reintroduced into the real world. It changed my life, the heroin took a back seat, not welcome in my life no more. It had done its damage, took everything I had away, my family, my kids, even my soul. Could I ever get back to the real me?

At the end of 'Back to You', the real me was back. Slowly my personality and confidence are coming back and getting accepted by the community. Not just a smackhead no more. I had a graduation and at the end of my course I received a certificate for beating the drug. I felt so proud of myself.

I gave my first speech last week to start my other journey, to help people who are still in the grip of heroin. I hope that day will come and I'm back on my skates and I'll make sure I don't fall. I know there'll be a few scratches and cuts along the way but ones that can be fixed with a plaster and I can get up and go again with a smile on my face.