What Cocaine Addiction Can Teach You

Recovery is possible (if you survive)

Moments after Turney Duff did cocaine for the first time, one undeniable thought lodged itself in his newly-euphoric brain:  “This is going to be a problem.”

“The Buy Side” is a great read.

A charismatic, multi-millionaire equities trader, Turney was a celebrity on Wall Street who shined even brighter in the post-work social scene than he did on the desk. Within a few years, however, he was struggling to keep it together at work. More than once, Turney barricaded himself in a hotel room, snorted line-after-line, and watched porn alone, in days-long benders he described as “one-man bachelor parties.”  

Eventually, after losing his job, his millions, and his relationship, Turney started on the long path of recovery. It didn’t stick immediately, but after Rehab #2, he took a turn back toward the positive where it remains after 15 years of sobriety. His book The Buy Side: A Wall Street Trader’s Tale of Spectacular Excess is a gripping read about the financial industry, hitting bottom, and rebuilding his life. 

I didn’t know Turney when he was using. So I never had to see someone I consider a friend go through such an ugly time. But talking to him on the podcast this week, I was reminded of how I benefited from the random ways drugs find us. 

I’ve never done coke. In fact, I’ve only seen it three times in my life. I think that’s because it’s so expensive. Unlike with weed and booze—which was omnipresent from the time I was 18 until this afternoon walking down Columbus Avenue—people with coke don’t offer it to you unless they are trying to access your business or your naughty bits. I never had any money until I was 32, and apparently, nobody with cocaine ever wanted to sleep with me. I’m grateful for this arbitrary non-occurrence, as I think I’d be particularly susceptible to any drug that makes me feel like I'm the smartest, best-looking person in the room.  (“Yes, I am a very clever <sniff> and interesting person…you should listen to my podcast! <sniff>” )

Here are a few other things I took away from my chat with Turney:

• The Power of Powerlessness. The first step in a 12-step program—which shall remain Anonymous—is to admit that you’re powerless over your addiction The admission that he couldn’t control what cocaine would do to him gave him the power to start moving away from it.

• Euphoria v Serenity. Complementing this process for Turney was his decision to change his definition of happiness. The belief that it means glittery perfection and cosmic stimulation leads to very different behaviors than the belief that happiness has more to do with serenity.

• Do Something Nice for Somebody Else. Turney said that one of the things he does when he finds himself in a weird brain space is to do something nice for someone else and not tell anyone. The gesture of thinking of another person’s well-being takes him out of his own head long enough to let whatever was bothering him work itself out. (I'm going to steal this idea.)

• The Other Side. I’ve known Turney for about 7 years now. I don’t think of him as “an addict.” I think of him as a writer, a committed and loving father, and a funny dude who always has something interesting to say. “Cocaine” is like a bullet point on his resume (“Gap Year w/ an emphasis on Narcotic Research”). Of course, recovery is a lifelong process, so I don’t mean to minimize the importance of persisting. But his story proves that redemption is possible. Even after you fuck up your life colossally, you can come back. That is, assuming you survive the fall.

Check out our conversation on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or YouTube.