Twenty Years of Nurofen Plus Addiction Nearly Killed Me

This story is shared with the full consent of the writer. It has only been edited to correct spelling and grammar and to remove any details that could identify the person involved. The story itself remains as close as possible to the writer’s original words and experience.

I took Nurofen Plus for 20 years.

I had no physical reason for taking them. For me, it was about escapism. I needed that little bit of euphoria they gave me, even if it only lasted for an hour. Sometimes that hour felt like enough to get me through the day.

Taking 32 tablets first thing in the morning would sort me out. I travelled huge distances and crossed into different counties to visit chemists where I could buy more. I planned where I would go and tried to make sure nobody noticed how often I was buying them.

I was not unaware of what was happening. I knew how far gone I was. I knew that sooner or later my addiction was going to kill me.

The physical dependence eventually became even stronger than the emotional and mental addiction. I could not see any way of withdrawing without the people around me finding out. This had become my secret.

People could see that I was not right. But when you are living with addiction, you become good at making excuses and creating explanations. I told people I was struggling with stress.

Eventually, everything came to a head.

I collapsed at home and began having seizures. A family member found me and called for an ambulance. My breathing had become dangerously shallow and the paramedics had to work to keep me alive while taking me to hospital.

I was brought into resuscitation. The next thing I remember was waking up ten days later after being taken off life support.

In my head, I thought it was still the same day. I believed I had simply been asleep. It was only when the specialists and my family explained what had happened that I began to understand the extent of the damage.

I had experienced multiple organ failure. I needed nine pints of blood and large amounts of antibiotics after developing sepsis, E. coli and other infections.

My lungs had collapsed and I had pneumonia. For days after waking up, I needed a breathing machine over my face and a tube down my throat to remove fluid from my lungs.

My kidneys were failing. I had an ulcer that had perforated and created a large hole in my stomach. My electrolytes were severely depleted and my blood cells were not functioning as they should. My throat and digestive system had also suffered extensive damage after years of taking such large amounts of ibuprofen.

My body was a mess.

Despite everything that was wrong with me, part of me felt elated. Being unconscious and on life support had forced my body through withdrawal. It was finally done. I was alive and I was no longer taking the tablets.

My greatest regret is what my addiction put my family through.

Had I spoken up earlier, I might never have reached that point. But that is often what addiction does. We isolate ourselves. We live in secrecy. We convince ourselves that we still have everything under control.

We are often very wrong.

I believed hiding my addiction was protecting the people around me. In reality, the secrecy allowed it to continue until my body could not take any more.

Please do not wait until your body reaches breaking point before asking for help. Speaking to someone may feel frightening, but keeping an addiction secret can be far more dangerous.

People who have lived through similar experiences can be an incredible source of support. You are not the only person who has hidden an addiction and you do not have to face it alone.