I’d been clean and sober for six weeks when Arsène Wenger arrived at Arsenal.
The hard work was done. I’d hit bottom, and got to my jumping-off point where I didn’t want to live any more. I didn’t want to live with the pain – I was in too much pain – but I didn’t know how to kill myself.
I was in purgatory. It was awful, and I don’t ever want to go back there.
I then asked something inside – a spiritual moment, call it what you want. I just had a moment of clarity. “I can’t take this any more.” I just surrendered.
The club hadn’t been able to find me. I’d been spending more time in pubs and clubs, and getting smashed, and I’d let Bruce Rioch down. The physio was trying to find me and I wasn’t there.
We’d been back to training for four weeks, and I’d spent more time in pubs and clubs. I was nowhere near training – I was too busy getting smashed.