My addiction was a long time ago-more years than I care to remember -in the 1970s. It's a time I've put behind me but it's still not easy to talk about. I was very young and susceptible to the influences of the day, where taking drugs seemed cool. No doubt it's the same for many young people today.
I dropped out of uni and followed the travel trail of my times: Penang, India and Kathmandu, countries where life was on the margins, facing perils that no parent would tolerate these days. I can't believe I put my parents through such agony and my sorrow at that endures. It's my abiding regret.
In many ways it's a miracle I survived, given the risks I took with both drug-taking and travel to unsafe countries.
But at the same time, I saw unbelievable poverty and struggle that had a lasting impact on me. There's nothing like death and disease close up to focus the mind.