KEY POINTS:
The "industry" of methamphetamine afforded Robert all the boys' toys he could wish for - even his own rig, any truck driver's dream.
He drove the truck on hauls from Auckland to Wellington, high on P and with little sleep, if any, between shifts.
When not travelling, he was dealing in P and making tens of thousands of dollars for gang members.
Within four hours, he would have made $50,000 - the cash stuffed in his pockets and stashed throughout his car as he drove around peddling P to contacts.
"I was making mega dollars. Half the time I didn't know why I was truck driving."
Robert would get 10 per cent of the money - the rest returned to suppliers and cooks of the drug - and it afforded him a lavish lifestyle.
"Cash, cars, bikes, all the mod-con toys. I owned my own truck but then forgot to [make payments]. I was too frizzled to care."
He had been out of the Black Power gang for 12 years but still had his connections. The P business was well organised and, on top of the cash, Robert would get free drugs based on the amount he sold.
Now aged 42, it was around four years ago that he became hooked on P, trying it through a cousin who was an addict. He says he was hooked from the first time.
"That feeling of not being tired - I could stay up for hours on end."
His cousin had a direct line to the P cook and could buy the drug at a heavily discounted rate. Robert spent $1000 that first week after trying it.
He used P to work harder, taking on more and more shifts driving between Auckland and Wellington.
"I was meant to have eight hours' sleep but within two hours I'd be ringing the boss asking, 'You got another trip for me to Wellington?' "
He kept three different log books to evade scrutiny about the amount of time he was driving.
Robert believes his boss suspected he was using something. He eventually lost the job.
Denial was his main armour, according to Robert.
His partner, the mother of two of his young children, quizzed him on drug use.
As he descended into addiction, Robert spent more and more time away from his family. He stayed with people who were like him, using P, and not questioning his actions.
During his two years using P, Robert found himself in prison after assaulting his partner.
He admits to having had anger problems throughout his life.
He came out of jail to find his partner and children gone.
He went to her parents' house, demanding to know where they were, and tore the house up. The police were called. Robert slid deeper into drugs, and whereas he once had cash flowing out his pockets, he suddenly found himself $10,000 in debt to his dealer.
He went back to dealing to pay but the conditions were not as good as before. He had to sell more in order to get his cut.
Crunch time came when he learned his partner was planning to take their children to live in Australia.
He sought help at Te Ara Hou, a six-month residential alcohol and drug programme provided by the Maori health organisation Raukura Hauora o Tainui Ki Tamaki.
"Being in a rehab centre turns you back into a normal person," he says.
"You're eating properly, making sure you're clean, going to counselling. It's like going back to school," Robert says. "It was the best move I ever did in my entire life."
He learned to speak Maori and found a sense of belonging, "of being real".
Through counselling, he addressed his anger problems and was allowed home on weekends to visit his children.
Robert said it was tough seeing his family struggling to pay the bills while he wasn't there to provide for them, but his counsellor made him stick with the programme.
