Jeff Whitley - My drink and drug hell
Jeff Whitley is winning the biggest challenge of his life after saving himself from alcohol and drugs hell.
Jeff Whitley is winning the biggest challenge of his life after saving himself from alcohol and drugs hell.
Now, the 29-year-old wants to resurrect his career after his wanton self-destruction almost cost him his life.
Wolves boss Mick McCarthy, who took Whitley to Sunderland, has handed the former Manchester City man an olive branch and the former Northern Ireland international has been dry for just over a year.
Relieved to have earned a second chance, he has been training with Wolves for two months on an unpaid basis.
Years of alcohol and drug abuse left him praying he would die, after coughing up blood with crippling pains in his kidneys, plagued by paranoia and eventually, broke.
So tight was the grip his disease had on him, he needed a drink before he could train. He even carried on his drink and drug-fuelled benders for days on end, while his partner was heavily pregnant.
Whitley's story is very much the unvarnished tale of how the party life can turn sour with disastrous consequences.
But it carries with it a warning that any aspiring youngster tempted by the trappings of success should heed.
He said: "My last club was Wrexham in April and it's been a really long, tough hard road, because I am still dealing with my past and trying to keep on top of that.
"It's not until you really want that help or maybe hit rock bottom you do anything about it, because it's hard to admit you've got a problem. I didn't think I had a drink problem. Everyone else could see it.
"Drink was ruining my life and it was happening right in front of me. But if you're addicted, you dont have a choiice. If you're going to lose your job, kids, family, house, car, you have no choice, because you have a disease that says you need your fix, regardless of the consequences.
"My disease wants me to be by myself and it was telling me you're alright, keep drinking away. My disease just wants me to kill myself.
"I had voices in my head because of all the drinking and drugs. I could shut my eyes and hear different people talking in my head and it was a scary place to be.
"I ended up in places I would never dream of being, alone in dark rooms, and it was a horrible, lonely time.
"There were so many times when I was lying at home in bed, because I had been on a mission for weeks and I would be praying to die."
Whitley believes he tried to hide the root cause of his problem with alcohol and what he saw as rejection by his parents, who both died early, his mother an alcoholic.
He said: "I wanted to die, because I lost my mum and dad when I was younger. I used to do a lot of travelling around and all that was very hard for me and contributed to a big build-up.
"I was 13 when I lost my dad James and it was really tough. I would go into the players' lounge and everyone else would be there with their mums and dads.
"I really missed my mum and dad. I had a lot of questions about why neither of them said goodbye and mum was an alcoholic.
"It was all due to what was happening inside me and I thought I knew myself but I didn't ,until I went into rehab and talked to someone that had been through the same stuff.
"I had been keeping stuff inside all my life. I thought I was big and could deal with it, but it was all still there. It was a really hard thing to get to grips with my feelings.
"I had a lot of resentment about my father leaving me and, as much as I had a big family, there no one's love you crave more than your mum and dad.
"So I drunk to get rid of the pain and to forget about things."
Whitley admits he had no idea how the power of his addiction would come to consume his life.
He said: "You don't know how it takes hold of you. At the time I was able to stop for a certain time and then I would go on a couple of stints here and there."
"It (drinking) would be literally all day, then I would play Saturday and it would be all day Sunday. From whatever time I woke up, it would be straight to the pub.
"Then it got to a stage where Sunday was creeping into Monday, Monday was creeping into Tuesday and so on.
"I couldn't function during the day without drinking and my head was so messed up, I wouldn't have been able to pick up a pen and write my name until the alcohol was in my system.
"Once I had a drink, I would settle down, but nine times out of 10, I would carry on during the day.
"It wasn't so much before training, although there were a couple of times where I had a few drinks in the morning before training, because I wasn't finishing drinking until 6am, 7am in the morning.
"So I have a couple of hours' sleep, get up, have a couple of shots and go to training.
"I was being late for training. I was always a good, hard trainer, but I was deluding myself, thinking because I had trained hard, I could go out, so I that is what I did.
"There was a point at Cardiff when the fitness coach turned up at my house, because I had phoned in sick and he came to my house.
"They were aware I had a problem but I kept telling them I was fine. When they told me about Sporting Chance, I shrugged it off.
"There were so many low points: All my morals went out of the window. For instance, I let my mates down all the time.
"I hated waiting for people in a bar or sat at home waiting for people, but I would make people wait for me.
"I always used to pay the bill when I went out because my friends were not on the same money. In the end, that started to bug me. Who were my true friends? They weren't cheap rounds!"
A powerful, hard tackling midfielder on the field, nothing could make him happy off the park, leading him to turn to drink.
He said: "As a footballer, you have a lot of spare time and money and there was only so much golf I wanted to play. Nothing fixed my attention. Nothing satisfied me."
"So I thought what could I do that would make me different? For me, it was drink, because I couldn't predict what was going to happen after I had a drink.
"Football became second. I was loving the party life, but it was getting worse until it got to the point where I wasn't playing at Cardiff, I wasn't playing when I went out on loan and that got on top of me.
"I went back to Cardiff after my loan spell at Stoke and the manager said 'Don't come in, but we will still pay you.' I locked myself in my apartment for three months.
"I was on a mission and carried on drinking. I had a little spell at Wrexham but I then had a seven-month stint where I was going crazy. I thank God I am still here.
"I don't pray to die anymore, I cherish each day I am given every time I wake up and I look forward to the day ahead. Now I am trying to get my football back on track and grasp the fact I have got a talent and I want to use it to the best of my ability.
"I have got my head screwed on and I feel I can make a go of the football."
Whitley admits that it became a case of the 'tail walking the dog' as the drink took hold.
He said: "I was drinking more, but the fun had gone out of that, and the fun had gone out of taking the drugs. I wasn't getting that fix out of the drink and then you get the paranoia. Everything gets on top of you.
"So you isolate yourself and I didn't want to talk to anyone, the phone was off so no one could get hold of me and that was a scary, scary place to be, because I could have easily died.
"That was exactly what I was building up towards. I was taking that much drink and drugs - a load of cocaine- and it didnít really matter what alcohol I was on. Vodka, anything, and to me it is a miracle I am still here because of the sheer, vast amount I was taking.
"I was running out of money and if I had a few thousand in the bank, I probably wouldn't have stopped because I had spent all my money. I did work it out how much, but I don't really want to get into how much I had blown.
"But it was a considerable amount and my missus was pregnant at the time as well. I knew I had a baby on the way but that was the power of the illness.
"You do not care and it's really hard for someone to help someone with this disease, because the disease will tell you you're alright.
"I went periods of time where I stopped, but within a couple of months of trying to convince myself I wasn't an alcoholic, I was back at it again. It was a vicious cycle."
Whitley's brave decision to confront his illness has opened his eyes to the perils and its tell-tale signs.
He said: "A lot of people's visions of an alcoholic are someone sitting on a park bench swigging from a bottle they're hugging. It's not.
"There are so many different types of alcoholic, like people who have to have four or five pints on their way home from work and drive home.
"People go home and have a couple of bottles of wine every night, but they won't see it as a problem. Alcohol is poison and addiction wants to take everything off you and leave you on your own to kill yourself.
"Someone would come up to me and go 'Jeff, it's alright' and I'd be alright for a couple of days but then I'd do it all over again."
The much-travelled midfielder admits his family suffered almost as much as he did battling the demons.
He added: "My family pleaded with me to stop many times, but I found any excuse to drink. I would go to the shop for a loaf of bread and not come back for a couple of days - loads of times.
"I would pop out to see a friend and not come back for a few days. I have put my partner though hell and she has seen the way I was. I would be shivering and twitching, in a complete and utter mess, so it was scary for her.
"I can remember lying in my bed in pain with back pains like you would never believe and my kidneys were in bits. I was coughing up blood, I had bloodshot eyes and despite all this, I still didn't stop.
"I can't ever shut the door on that. It will always be a little bit open, so I can keep that reminder that it will always be there.
"It's a progressive disease because the longer you're off it, the more active it gets - it's waiting for you to trip up.
"It's waiting for you to think 'Oh, it's a sunny day, I'll have one. Bot once I have had one drink, I might as well be a dead man, because it triggers an allergic reaction in my body to have another and another. With each one, the craving doubles.
"Before I know, I will be ordering some drugs and be back where I was, so that's why I live day to day to keep on top of my disease. I have to take it day by day and you can't live in the future, because tomorrow is a mystery."
Hitting his lowest point made Whitley finally seek help.
He said: "I hit rock bottom and I asked for help. I haven't had a drink since 13 November 2007. I went to see an old friend of mine. We stayed at the Bredbury Hall hotel in Manchester and I just burst into tears.
"He said 'What's wrong, Jeff?' I looked in the mirror and said 'I don't recognise that man anymore. Where's my life going? ìI was trapped in an endless cycle of going out and doing the same stuff.
"You always think you've got lots of friends with alcohol. I remember calling people to come and pick me up, but not one of my so-called buddies I had been drinking with for years came to pick me up.
"That told me a lot. I spent the day with an old friend, had a chat and the following day, the 13th, that was it.
"I went back to my brotherís and made the hardest phone call of my life, to Sporting Chance. My head was in a right state. Me and my brother (former footballer Jim Whitley) both broke down in tears because I had made the phone call.
"I couldn't wait to get into that clinic and get help. I had the assessment but they told me I couldnít go back there for two weeks.
"But I was glad because my baby girl was born in those two weeks and three days later I went to Sporting Chance.
"I would have ran there I was that desperate. I knew coming off alcohol and drugs, I was going to feel sad, lonely and terrified, feeling guilt, shame and remorse.
"If you put your hand in the fire, you'll get burnt, so if you keep putting your hand in the fire, you know the outcome. But the disease tells you you can put your hand in that fire and it's so hard."
Whitley isn't the first reformed footballer to have sought refuge at Wolves' training ground.
In 2003/04, a then 36-year-old Paul Gascoigne was handed a chance to resurrect his career, after he had been dry for 10 months.
Unfortunately, although he remained sober at Wolves, 'Gazza' couldn't stay on the wagon and now appears to be in the sad, destructive cycle that Whitley recalls with horror.
He said: "I really feel for Gazza. Heís going through a hell of a lot of pain and I feel it. Hopefully one day he will come to grips with that. I haven't spoken to him, but if I had the chance to talk to someone like Gazza, I would love to.
"He has had so many professional people try to help him, but he has got to want the help. He has been in and out of rehab and I just hope people don't give up on him."
Dry for a year, Whitley is just grateful to the chance McCarthy has given him following knee surgery.
The midfielder said: "After my knee operation I was trying to get myself up and running going back and forth from Lilleshall and it is tough ìMick called me because he knew my situation and he was kind enough to ask me if I needed some help and I did.
"I'm very grateful to him and I was really touched. He got me in to use the facilities and physios. I have made great progress. I have been here training for two months. I'm not being paid.
'I have enjoyed every day because the staff are brilliant, there's a great buzz among the players and the team is doing well.
"I love the way the youngsters mix with the first team, because that doesn't happen at many clubs.
"I am just really looking forward to getting some games - wherever that might be - and start earning to support the family, because this is the longest I have been without earning."
