Growing up, my parents weren’t religious and the only time I remember going to church was for my brother’s christening. I always believed there could be a higher being, but I thought Christianity was outdated and irrelevant.
To me, Jesus was nothing more than a wise guy. I suppose I thought life was about finding success, and that meant having loads of friends, being well liked, and finding my dream job. I expected that once I had ticked all these boxes, I’d be satisfied.
When I was sixteen, a friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer and died months later. I really didn’t know how to react and was totally shaken. I had nowhere to channel my grief, so I fell into a self-destructive mode. The easiest thing to do was to push everything down further.
I started going out way too much, drinking and dabbling in drugs. None of these things made me happier and I didn’t understand why. Even though the selling point is, ‘Take these and you’ll have a great night,’ every morning I woke up with the same feeling of emptiness.
When I was nineteen, I moved to Brighton to study Music Business. I kept up this lifestyle but I hit rock bottom a couple of months in. I was alone in a new city and I had no one to turn to. [Continue reading here]
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