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Ketamine use has tripled among 16 to 24-year-olds across England since 2016. Reports show that use of Ketamine has reached record levels in recent years, and this is reflected in the people coming for us for help.

Debbie Coote, our Therapeutic Services Director, said: “We have seen a rise in young people coming to us for help with Ketamine use.”

Once introduced to the substance, we hear people say they begin by using it at parties, festivals, the pub before going on to use it throughout the week. It has evolved from party drug to a drug that people are using in isolation, in their homes and on their own.

Ketamine can cause serious damage to our urinary systems, and along with the experience of K-holes – a dissociative and hallucinogenic effect, and K-cramps – where users suffer severe stomach pain.

Debbie continues, “Price is a big factor, young people don’t have large disposable incomes because of the cost of living. Ketamine can be obtained cheaper than some other substances.

“We see people of all ages and backgrounds in group and they all have the same thing in common, they have an illness and have come to us desperate for help to get well and rediscover themselves.”

The Home Office recently announced that Ketamine could be upgraded to a Class A drug as the government seeks expert advice on its classification. This in itself is a clear indication on how seriously we should all be taking the issue.

We are currently treating ‘S’ for Ketamine addiction, she said: “I have unfortunately experienced some of the horrible side-effects brought on by this drug.

“If I were to talk to my 16-year-old self, I would tell her not to start it, or at least to be careful. But I know I probably wouldn’t have listened at that age.

“Here I am now, receiving treatment from The Living Room, which is helping me turn my life around and make better choices. With this help, I truly believe I will go on to live a life free of addiction.”

If you’ve be affected by the issues in this story, we can help you. We offer free, time-unlimited group therapy for Hertfordshire residents, at our hubs in Stevenage, Watford and St Albans.

Once you’ve called us, or referred yourself online, we aim to offer you an assessment with one of our counsellors within three working days.

We also offer support for those affected by a loved-one’s addiction in our specialised Family and Carers Groups.

Self-refer or call us on 0300 365 0304. Recovery is possible and it can start here.

For those of us in recovery from eating disorders, and people who have a difficult relationship with food, the recent craze of weight loss jabs is another challenge to face.

Ozempic and other anti-diabetic drugs like Wegovy and Monjaro are now used regularly for weight management in people who are not diabetic or otherwise clear candidates for the drug. In addition to affecting insulin production, these drugs mimic the release of hormones that tell us when we are hungry and full.

The availability of these drugs can often be overwhelmingly appealing for anyone with disordered eating.

Some of us have spent years working on positive body image, trying to find peace with the body we have and trying to develop a better relationship with food.

Body image work is tough. The concept of finally finding some peace around one’s appearance is daunting, and for those who have a history of eating disorders, it often feels impossible. Enter drugs that lead to loss of appetite and often weight loss. The temptation to ditch the hard work on body acceptance can be incredibly seductive—especially if one has dreamed of a magic drug that makes you skinny.

Our Therapeutic Services Director, Debbie Coote says; “At The Living Room, we undertake a deep, holistic assessment with the person who comes to us for help. During this assessment, we want to learn more about them and their relationship with food before we make judgments.

“Our clients are discouraged from trying to lose weight or focusing on their weight. Instead, we tend to their body image, their feelings, their mindset, their self-esteem and self-care abilities.

“If they are using or looking to use any metabolic drug such a Ozempic, Monjaro, Wegovy or Semaglutide, or if they are craving bariatric surgery, we give them the facts as we know them and offer them an alternative in the therapy we provide.

“We often find there is an underlying reason why using these drugs seems like a solution. And with therapy, we can help the person heal and improve their relationship with themselves and food.”

If you or someone you know is considering weight-loss jabs or similar, please call us before you take action. A qualified counsellor will want to learn everything about your relationship with food, including how it has gone astray, and we can help you.

Group therapy at The Living Room is free and time-unlimited. Please call us on 0300 365 0304 or fill in our online form.

Monday’s episode of 24 Hours in Police Custody told three overlapping stories with three different perspectives into the drug trade.

Top of the UK chain was a tattoo artist who was caught after customs officials intercepted a kilo of drugs hidden inside gym equipment addressed to his apartment. He received 16 years in prison.

Then there was a senior clinical nurse who was found asleep in his car with bags of white powder that he had been supplying at sex parties. This man received two-and-a-half years.

And thirdly, there was the young struggling father with debt who had agreed to store a large amount of drugs in his house for the Tattooist in return for £15k. He never did receive the money, and the consequence of his involvement resulted in a 10 year prison sentence.

But why are we talking about this?

Our job is to provide free group therapy to people who want to get well from addiction. Whilst we see the beautiful results of lives turned around, we are very aware that illegal drugs and their trafficking effects the lives of many people.

We are a relatively small charity relying on donations and funding to tackle the big problem of drug addiction.

We see, daily, the destruction caused in the life of the person taking the substance. But there are many other people along the drug’s journey who are affected. Of course, this is something we rarely think much about in active addiction, because we need what we need and that’s as far as it goes.

But how does it get to us? Where does it come from? Who has been part of the supply?

The National Crime Agency (NCA) tell us that organised crime groups involved in drug trafficking are typically also involved in a range of criminal activity, and the profits from illegal drugs are used to fund other forms of criminal operations, including buying illegal firearms and financing terrorism.

Crime associated with drug trafficking is very often violent, with direct links to the criminal use of firearms and gang feud knife attacks, and traffickers frequently exploit young and vulnerable people.

Not forgetting County Line drug networks that are a mechanism by which that method of supply is supported; namely the use of a mobile telephone line and the use of vulnerable adults and children to facilitate the distribution. These children are often aged around15-17.  Importing areas are reporting increased levels of violence and weapons-related crimes as a result of this trend.

It’s deep and it’s heavy to think about, but it is very real.

Our daily work in treating people and their families living with addiction in Hertfordshire continues. We are proud of every person that turns their life around from illegal drug use, each amazing person that becomes abstinent in recovery is one less vulnerable person in the supply chain of illegal drugs.

Close to home, recovery has an immense impact on the local community. That person is no longer getting arrested or constantly being admitted to hospital. They aren’t disturbing neighbours, acting antisocially or shop-lifting. There’s less strain on mental health services, detox services and courts.

If anything you’ve read here has touched a chord with you and you’d like to begin your recovery journey, please contact us online or call us on 0300 365 0304.

T, one of our wonderful counsellors, recently took part in St Albans Sleepout and decided to record her thoughts and feelings throughout the experience.

This is her journal from the evening.

Like all our counsellors, T has lived experience of both addiction and recovery and is highly qualified in her field. She says:

“My night rough sleeping was an experience – but it was just that, an experience. Like how you can purchase an experience of a safari, and you get to peek inside the window of the wild. I knew I was going home in the morning, which is a privilege that those experiencing street homelessness don’t have.”
 
T noticed a few things along the way, starting with what it was like packing her bag and being able to choose what to wear from a fully stocked wardrobe. She said, “That was a blessing I’ve come to take for granted. I opted not to take my toothbrush or skincare routine which is basic self-care that I find pleasure in, but wouldn’t be a priority if I was homeless.

“Around midnight, my feelings switched from sweet to tragic when I looked over at my colleague’s son and noted how sweet he looked so soundly asleep. I immediately reflected that homelessness is not a fun game, and it’s not a choice because homelessness is someone’s life.” 
 
T’s outfit choice consisted of four pairs of trousers, four tops, gloves, a hat, a scarf, and multiple pairs of socks which she felt was a bit much early evening, but by 2am she realised was a great choice. She explained, “I found I was depriving myself of water at 4am because I didn’t want to leave my sleeping bag and lose the heat, I’d been storing up to go to the loo despite all my layers.
 
“Throughout the night, there was a lot going on and I realised quickly after lying down that I wasn’t going to be able to sleep, so I attempted to take my friend hostage in the hope she’d stay up and talk antidotes of our past, but sadly sleep took her.

“The evening hustle continued with surrounding conversations, birdsong, snoring, vehicles passing through, doors opening and closing. The one I found most disruptive was when over 20 floodlights beamed down causing an internal siren to go off inside me as if a raid was taking the campus. After sitting bolt upright, I soon realised I was the only person awake and alerted by this – everyone else was undisturbed.”

Using her academic knowledge of counselling, T explains the basics of Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs are food, clothing, sleep and water. She said, “But, this was my choice for one night, some people are unable to have these basic needs met daily.
 
Opening up about her own recovery journey, T starkly says, “Addiction and homelessness are close friends, both feeding into each other, and although I have a generous amount of “one day a time’s” behind me, I wasn’t immune to the thoughts and feelings creeping into my mind as the minutes slowly ticked by into hours.

“Surrounded by hundreds of people, I felt lonely; I felt fear, I felt the feeling of being unsafe, and the boredom crept in.

“I knew that although I felt unsafe, I was safe, and nobody was going to ‘kick my teeth in for my shoes’ as another participant shared when speaking of his lived experience of homelessness.

“As bored as I was, I wasn’t going to lean into my old worn-out addictions that no longer serve me, I was able to feel what I was feeling, even in the uncomfortable ones. I decided to get my journal out. It was all temporary. I think one of the beautiful things about The Living Room is how it supports clients back into ‘living’ in the world again.”

T says she could have done it again for a second or third night, but it would all have been an experience – like the safari experience – because she knew she had a home to go back to.

“I felt sad with thoughts of not knowing where to go next or having to keep doing the same thing again not knowing where it ends. And not knowing where my next meal would come from and having to fill my days, too. I imagine the fear, boredom, loneliness, isolation, desperation would only increase. Its unfathomable.

“The gratitude I have for my recovery, home, belongings, and my safety are unreal. I am grateful for my job and my purpose to help others on their recovery journeys. I keep a gratitude diary, and I will continue to be thankful for my life and everything I have.”

If you watched Eastenders last night (Tuesday) you would have seen Linda Carter reaching breaking point.

This storyline is a good depiction of how a person can treat underlying trauma with alcohol and/or other addictions.

Linda Carter, once a strong, happily married, nurturing mother and landlady of the Queen Vic has undergone her fair share of trauma over the years. From being raped by her brother-in-law and struggling with bulimia to losing her husband, there have been affairs, blackmail, lies, broken families and murder.

In last night’s episode, her son Johnny, who is acting as her legal team for her impending court case where she grapples to get justice for being raped by Dean Wicks, gave her alcohol to help her through a meeting with the trail’s prosecution.

But Linda couldn’t stop at one drink to calm her nerves which resulted in her being taken off the case.

Another attempt to stay sober the following day was scuppered after Linda was given alcohol by Bernie, whose motive was to get her drunk and admit to lying about Keanu’s murder.

After a blazing row, a distraught, disappointed and disgusted Johnny found his Mum drinking in bed and told her he wished she had died instead of his dad, Mick, before storming out. By the time he had returned to talk things through, she was unconscious.

Could this be Linda’s rock bottom?

This is a soap opera and Eastenders is renowned for being dramatic, but if we are living with addiction our reality can be like this, and it disturbs everyone around us.

If you relate to Johnny and your life is being affected by somebody else’s addiction, we can offer you free group counselling in our Family Carer’s Groups.

If you relate to Linda, we can help. We offer free, time-unlimited day-time group therapy to adults living with addiction in Hertfordshire.

Recovery is possible. Since 2000, we have successfully helped over 7500 clients into recovery from an addiction that was ruining their lives and the lives of those around them.

We can help you too. Call us on 0300 365 0304 to find out more or self-refer online.

It is a story of existential addiction drama, followed by a rocky journey into treatment and recovery.

At the weekend we went to see People Places and Things which is s a production written by playwright Duncan Macmillan and is currently on at Trafalgar Theatre in London until 10^th August.

Emma is the main character and is undergoing rehab for drink and drug addiction. Brilliantly played by Denise Gough, a recovering addict herself with 17 years of sobriety behind her.

In an interview with The Standard, Gough says she can talk publicly about her own trauma, addiction and abuse because her recovery means she’s speaking from ‘the wisdom, not the wound.”

She says she thinks society in general has “a deeper understanding and I think a deeper acceptance of addiction in all its forms. So, it’s not just a play about alcohol and drugs, it’s about a lack of connection, especially connection to oneself.”

Gough’s position of lived experience is valuable to her role as Emma who struggles to exist in the world and doesn’t know her own identity. This is perfectly depicted from the audience’s perspective as it is hard to work out when, and if, she is telling the truth. –  A feeling those caring about a loved one living with addiction will know well.

Following a whole lot of madness, it takes for Emma to break down and finally ask for help before things begin to change. This is a familiar feeling for those of us in recovery. It is like something snaps – or something heals – and we want to get better. We begin to listen.

There is a heartbreaking and brutally honest conversation in the second act where Emma makes amends to her parents. In this scene everyone speaks their feelings openly for seemingly the first time.

Her parents say, “We’ve heard it all before,” when she apologises for her past actions and behaviour towards them during active addiction.

This is something we hear regularly in our Family and Carer Groups; we know that families just want their loved one to stay sober; the word sorry which has been said many times can be a very empty word. Daily amends is key, day by day staying sober is proof that we’re sorry, and doing the right thing and thinking of others is a continuous amend.  

We also loved that Emma’s story ended true to life showing that recovery is an ongoing journey, it doesn’t finish after treatment, we continue throughout our lives.

People, Places and Things very much depicts that recovery is possible. If you are struggling with addiction, then please know that we can help. The Living Room offers free, time-unlimited group therapy for those living with addiction at our centres in Stevenage, St Albans and Watford. And for parents, loved ones and carers, we also offer help for families and people looking after someone living with addiction.

Call us on 0300 365 0304 for more information and to book an assessment with our highly qualified counsellors who all have lived experience of addiction and recovery. You can also find out more about what we do and self-refer online.

In this blog, we are highlighting painkiller addiction with the experience, strength and hope of an ex client who is in recovery from opiate addiction.

I will never forget the first time I tried opiates. People say it is like deep relaxation, being wrapped in a blanket of inner peace, or like a hug from your Mum.

I did not set out to be an addict when I took my first swig of Bacardi age 14, hiding behind a ford fiesta with my friend, Gemma. But for the next 22 years I cycled between using anorexia, bulimia, speed, cocaine, terrible men, workaholism and alcohol to the point of doing those things daily for the last ten years.

I had never meant to cause harm, worry, problems to my family, my friends, my work, strangers or myself but it happened.

I remember my first opiate experience very clearly. I was in A&E, in physical pain from something that would be diagnosed as cancer just a few hours later.  

My usage was ramped up at the time, due to not being able to cope with having just lost one of my parents. I’d been drinking and using other substances before I arrived, because that’s what I did.

Tramadol was prescribed to me and another patient, the other patient started flipping out in reaction to the pill and they had to reverse it. I sat there calm, peaceful and content…for the first time in forever.

Blood tests confirmed cancer and I needed to stay in hospital for the foreseeable future. I was given morphine, which I mixed with the alcohol I snuck out to buy at night – when no one was watching.  

I lay there wondering what all the fuss was about: this was great, I felt invincible because the opiates were treating both my emotional and physical pain and they had erased the grief. Cancer wasn’t really that bad.  

Being in hospital meant no responsibility. I didn’t have to go to work, or worry about paying my bills, nor did I have to meet shady dealers in dark corners because the hospital was providing me with the drug that I now loved more than anything.

And people felt sorry for me, no one was angry at me. I was a cancer patient, and I was bright, upbeat and pleasant thanks to opiate produced endorphins.

I was discharged with a huge bag of my new favourite drug of choice, and I went home to continue my newfound positive outlook on life until things got very dark, and I preferred to be unconscious.

I’d wake up in the morning and take enough to go back to sleep, I’d wake up at lunchtime and take more and lie down again, same in the evening which meant I was constantly out of it.

Until they ran out. Then I panicked. I became very unwell, so I asked for more and said I was in such terrible pain.

I was soon to realise that it may have turned everything off, but it all came back, worse. At first it made everything go away but as it went away, it took everything with it.

For the next couple of years, I had chemo and conned hospital doctors, GPs, pharmacists, dentists and even my dog’s vet out of opiates. My tolerance was ridiculous, and a month’s prescription would be gone in a couple of days.

Then the lies had got worse. I’d ‘lost my prescription on the train’, I’d ‘had my bag stolen with the pills in’, I’d ‘accidentally left them out in the rain and they’d melted.’ (That was a particularly terrible one). The reasons I needed more were becoming increasingly unbelievable.

I remember the anxiety when calling the doctors to make sure they’d filled the prescription, then calling the pharmacy to ensure they’d received it, before asking when I can come and get it – “is it ready right now?”.

Then one day they smelled a rat and cut me off. The horror and sheer panic were excruciating and the withdrawal I was so terrified of, had begun. No one would give me what I needed even when I admitted to being in withdrawal.

It was here that I had to find desperate ways to feel well again, and this meant returning to those shady dealers in the dark corners, this time for opiates.

And then I was back in my comfort zone, nothing around me mattered, but the world was dirty, dangerous and demeaning.

Some hairy and shameful scenarios followed, and I’d found myself searching the internet for quick and easy ways to get clean. I remember wondering if there was such a service as being put to sleep for a few weeks until it was out of my system… It felt too hard.

I tried weed for withdrawals, but it didn’t help that I didn’t like weed, nor did it work. I tried to drink more, but it heightened my anxiety. I tried to lock myself in a room and go through the pain – but I just unlocked the door and let myself out to find more. It was all completely hopeless.

I couldn’t be honest about any of it. People assumed my behaviour and sweaty and sick demeanour was due to cancer, not addiction.

At some point I called The Living Room, I cannot remember how or when, but I do remember turning up for my assessment and them being kind to me.

I sat in group and couldn’t believe all these people were admitting to terrible things, and no one was telling them they are terrible people. Somehow, I began to talk about myself and admit what I had been doing.

They told me I had an illness, the disease of addiction. They told me that underneath my behaviour is trauma which I am trying to escape and that we would work it out and I would be okay. They introduced me to Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous.

I began to feel inspired by this place and the people in it. I chose against Medicated Assistance Treatment, (MAT)  which really works for some people, opting instead for a tapering plan made for me by my GP, supported by the counsellors and group.

I hated Thursdays because it was reduction day, and I would be in withdrawals all over again. By Wednesday I would be feeling better for it all to start again. It took three months to be at zero.

I remember the very first fully clean day. It was the first day in many years that I had not taken a drink or a drug. I was over the moon. This is my sobriety birthday and today I have been clean for 7.5 years. I’m also 7 years in cancer remission. 

I am extremely grateful to The Living Room for helping me into recovery, and for opening my eyes to the nature of my addiction and introducing me to the fellowships. I have had outside trauma therapy which enabled me to work through the underlying stuff and I am a different person because of the help I have had. 

I choose not to take opiates for pain, including childbirth. I refuse to let opiates get their meat hooks into me again.

I don’t believe that everyone who takes opiates will become addicted, but I do think the powerful effect it had on easing my past trauma, and the trauma I was experiencing at the time, was dangerously powerful. I hid behind it not being that bad, because it was legal, and prescribed.

It was the love of my life, my final destination in addiction, and it brought me to my rock bottom.

If you are struggling with a painkiller or prescription drug addiction, we can help. The Living Room offers free, time-unlimited group therapy, for people and their families living with addiction in Hertfordshire.

Call us on 0300 365 0304 to book an assessment with one of our highly qualified Counsellors or you can self-refer online.

*All names have been changed to protect anonymity.

“I just want to help them get well.”

This is something we hear a lot from people who are living with someone else’s addiction.

Let’s call them a loved one, even if you might hate them at times because of their behaviour, and because the person you love has been taken over by addiction.

Living with someone else’s addiction is tough. Our day might start with a haunted feeling of fear, sadness and anxiety combined with a hope that today might be different because it might be the day they finally decide that enough is enough.

We might also feel tense waiting for the next dramatic thing to happen around us.

Today might be one of those days when they break down in tears and ask for our help, (which we are always immediately ready to give) and these are good days because we are ready for action and there’s a flash of light at the end of this dark tunnel that we’ve been stuck in.

But at the same time, we might worry it’ll be like the last time they asked us for help, and we gave it, and it didn’t work.

Or it might be one of those terrifying days where they’ve gone missing, and our mind is filled with all the terrible things that might happen to such a vulnerable person out there. We try not to think of those terrible things, but the thoughts won’t go away.

Or it may turn out to be a day when they stay in bed, and we have to tip-toe around the house trying not to wake them up. These can be the best days for us, more peaceful, because after all, they’re in bed and we know where they are. We can keep them safe. For now. Until they leave us. Again.

We might feel that if we don’t try our hardest to help them get well, that they will die. We might feel like we are keeping them alive. That is a lot of pressure, and a lot of stress.

Our whole world has been taken over by this person’s addiction. No amount of pleading, threatening, or leaving and coming back again is making them get help.

We hear it all the time, it’s an illness, they can’t help it. And this is true. But another truth is we ourselves, are living with trauma. Maybe they are too unwell to hear us cry. Where is our support? They sadly cannot give it to us. And we deserve love and care and kindness ourselves. Could we possibly be co-dependent?

In her book, Co-dependent No More, Melody Beattie defines a co-dependent person as one who has let another person’s behaviour affect him or her, and who is obsessed with controlling that person’s behaviour.

Maybe we have been trying so hard to help someone get well, that we have lost ourselves in the process.

If only they would stop. If they stopped, everything would be okay. I would be okay. Life would be okay.

It’s helpful to remember that none of us have control over people, places, or things. No matter how hard we try. Our loved ones will only get well when they are ready. But we do have a right to look after ourselves at the same time.

We can intentionally choose not to have our lives completely controlled by someone else’s addiction, and we can ask for help to find a way to live for ourselves.

We can help you with this in our Family and Carer’s Groups. You can talk with a qualified counsellor who has lived experience of addiction and recovery within families.

You will have access to our small, free, and confidential groups, which offer non-judgmental support and understanding specific to the issues faced by family members, as well as practical advice, education, and strategies or ‘tools’ to deal with addiction in the family system.

You will be able to share experiences safely, obtaining freedom from isolation among others with similar experiences. Attendees of this support group often start to build for themselves a positive lifestyle, regardless of whether the person living with the addiction gains recovery.

If this is something you’d like to explore for yourself, please call us for a chat on 0300 365 0304 or you can visit our website to contact us online.

Recently, someone asked why we never use the word addict.

Our answer? Because we are striving to reduce the stigma associated with addiction and avoid negative bias. It is such a negative term and really doesn’t benefit anyone.

Our job is to help our clients, many of whom arrive not knowing who they are and have very low self-esteem and self-worth. They are lost, broken, and in pain. Our role is to help them build themselves up, look at any underlying trauma, heal, and begin to see the good in themselves.

Having experienced life with an addiction for a significant period, we will often have extremely negative self-talk uttering its way through our minds. We rarely know what we like, or don’t like, or even what our favourite colour is. Our identity is confusing to us, or maybe non-existent because in stark truth, the disease of addiction has taken it from us.

That is why The Living Room uses a person-first approach, that reflects an accurate, science-based understanding of the disease of addiction. So, instead of saying you are an addict, you are the problem. (Something they have probably told themselves or heard from others many times.) We say, you are experiencing life with the disease of addiction you have a problem – and we can help you.

So, we would never refer to someone as an addict or an alcoholic, no matter if they are in active recovery, or in active addiction. We also would not call someone an ex-addict or ex-alcoholic. 

And it gets complicated, because you may hear people refer to themselves as addicts, even those with many years of complete abstinence in recovery.

But, whilst someone may refer to themselves as an addict in their own safe social communities such as fellowship meetings, they will do this to help other people in that community that are struggling. It is a way of showing newer people that they relate and identify. ‘I’ve been there, I know how you’re feeling right now.’

It is also sometimes used as a self-introductory term to show humility, that they need to remember their disease, but also share how far they have come in recovery and to shine a guiding light to others. But they always have the choice of anonymity and the option to decide for themselves how they self-identify.

Speaking about stigma is important because if a person feels stigmatised, they will feel even more hopeless than they probably already feel. And this will reduce the likelihood of them receiving treatment. It can also lead to other people feeling fear, pity, anger, and the desire to stay away from people living with the disease of addiction.

It is not a moral failing, it is a chronic but treatable disease that with the right treatment and support, people can lead healthy lives and become valuable members of society, in recovery and beyond abstinence. They can even go on to help others. These people are amazing in our eyes.

Most of us have seen the news and heard the speculation but we would like to focus on the fact that Matthew Perry was a self-professed advocate of breaking the stigma of addiction.
 
He was open, honest, and brave in speaking out, because, in his own words, he just wanted to help other people who are living with addiction.

Over the years and throughout his many struggles, Matthew Perry pretty much became a spokesperson for addiction. In an interview with People Magazine in 2013, he said “When I was in big trouble, it was so public because I was on a TV show that 30 million people were watching. The fact that I’m on TV makes people listen a little bit more, so I take advantage of that from time to time.”

Friends has been a comfort blanket for many people, perhaps this is generational, but there was certainly a time where there was always a repeat on the telly, and if you were a Friends fan, you always knew what was going to happen next.

It was light-hearted, it was funny and sometimes ridiculous, and there’s no denying that it was popular.

However, in an interview about his book, Friends, Lovers and the Big Terrible Thing, Matthew Perry said; “When I die, I don’t want Friends to be the first thing that’s mentioned. I want helping people to be the first thing that’s mentioned”.

“The best thing about me, bar none, is that if an alcoholic or drug addict comes up to me and says, ‘Will you help me?” “I can say yes and follow up and do it.”

In recent years, Matthew spoke proudly of his work in addiction recovery, and how he used his platform to urge people to seek help. He said, “When you’re having a bad day, the best thing you can do is call somebody and ask them how they’re doing and actually pay attention and listen to the answer to get out of your own head.’

Despite his own difficult personal journey, he put his resources, personal experience, and connections to good use. With the help of addiction specialist Earl Hightower, there was a period where Perry turned his Malibu mansion into a sober recovery home for men. The pair of them won many awards for their work with recovering addicts. “We’re award-winning alcoholics” He joked, in true Chandler Bing style.

We aren’t commenting on the speculation around how the late Matthew Perry died. Instead, we are choosing to take inspiration from his story, his life, and his urge to help others who live with addiction.

His personal journey was undeniably turbulent. It appears there were more hard times than good periods in his life. But with a little self-reflection, let’s be inspired by Matthew Perry and work to live a better life, and to help others. That is what recovery is ALL about.

If you’ve felt affected by Matthew Perry’s passing and it has struck a chord with you and you’d like to begin your recovery journey, reach out to us, we are here to help you.

With Big Brother back on our screens, we remember iconic contestant Nikki Grahame.

First of all, WHO IS SHE?! She was the feisty, funny, and quirky lady who entertained us with her antics in the 2006 series. She is also a lady who struggled with, and eventually sadly lost her life to, an eating disorder.

Nikki died in 2021, aged 38 following a 30-year battle with an eating disorder.

You may have seen the powerful Channel 4 documentary Nikki’s mother Sue took part in, Nikki Grahame: Who is she? In it, she recalled her own heart breaking story to raise awareness of how vital eating disorder treatment and mental health services are to those who are struggling. 

Figures and facts gained from eating disorder charity BEAT, state that approximately 1.25 million people in the UK have an eating disorder and the sooner people get help, the more likely they will make a full recovery.

At The Living Room, we are lucky enough to work with some very inspirational people and we regularly hear some very uplifting stories of recovery. We want you to know that recovery IS possible.

In our Disordered Eating Group, we don’t diagnose eating disorders. Instead, we look deeper into our feelings and why we have developed these behaviours and what purpose those behaviours have served for us.

At this point you might be asking, what is the difference between an eating disorder and disordered eating? To clarify, disordered eating is a term used to describe a wide range of harmful eating behaviours. And an eating disorder means you have been clinically diagnosed with an eating disorder in line with specific diagnostic criteria.

Whilst we sympathise with the NHS and how overwhelmed it is with the demand of people trying to access treatment, we also know that people with eating disorders often feel like they are ‘not thin enough’ for help or ‘not sick enough’ for recovery.  

The reality is NHS treatment can be hard to come by and only given to people fitting certain Body Mass Index (BMI) criteria and this difficulty is becoming more talked about.

You may have seen the video of presenter Jeff Stelling, who earlier this year, in an emotional and eventually tearful address, voiced how he feels about the awareness and funding towards treatment. 

“Up to 20 per cent of all eating disorder cases end in death and the cycle goes like this. Boy, girl, woman, man, goes for help, they are told they are not thin enough, they are not underweight enough to need treatment.

“They go away, they lose more weight, they go further and deeper into the mental morass that they’re in. They have suicidal tendencies.

“Eating disorders are being swept under the carpet. No one should be dying of an eating disorder in 2023. Those with eating disorders need action and help, and they need it now.”

But what is the solution?

Well, we know that disordered eating severely interferes with quality of life, but the good news is that recent research suggests that the sooner someone gets the treatment they need, the more likely they are to make a full recovery.

And that is where we come in. There are no waiting lists or BMI stipulations for treatment at The Living Room, nor are there any time constraints on treatment. Our services are FREE and we have help right now for adults living in Hertfordshire who are experiencing disordered eating.

Our advice to anyone struggling is, don’t hesitate in getting the help you need. Call us. You don’t need to wait; you can contact us to book an assessment with our counsellors – who all have lived experience of recovery.

At the end of the documentary, Nikki’s Mum recalled seeing her daughter being put into a body bag and tearfully said: “They took her away and I didn’t see her again. Part of me has died. I miss her more than I can say. She didn’t think she was anything special, but she was.”

Please know that if you’re struggling with a loved one’s eating disorder or addiction, support can be found for you too, in our Family and Carer’s Group.