Cocaine In all its horrific glory.

I’ve been thinking a lot about cocaine lately, but not in the way some of us once did and honestly, I hate it. Not because of the moral panic society sometimes attaches to drugs, but because of the quiet, insidious way it changes people and not just the people using it, but everyone around them. I’ve seen it first-hand, and it breaks my heart.

Cocaine isn’t just a stimulant. It doesn’t just make someone feel euphoric for a fleeting moment. It chips away at inhibitions, desensitizes people to the world, and warps their sense of what’s normal. I’ve seen people who would never dream of using drugs around children—people with strong moral compasses, nurturing instincts, and a deep sense of care suddenly doing exactly that at children’s parties. And it’s not because they want to be reckless; it’s because cocaine dulls their perception. It makes them believe that behavior which would have once horrified them is suddenly acceptable, even normal.

It’s devastating to watch. The ripple effect reaches far beyond the user. Children notice. They pick up on energy, tone, and priorities. They witness behaviors that are confusing or frightening. And I’ve seen brilliant minds, people with incredible potential, let themselves get swallowed by it. Their ideas, creativity, and capacity to do amazing things are all there just waiting to be realized but cocaine hijacks it, steals it, and replaces it with a shallow, fleeting high.

What angers me most is that it often targets the deepest people, the ones with the greatest minds and hearts. These are people who could have changed the world, inspired others, or created beauty. But the drug strips that away. It replaces potential with addiction, brilliance with numbness. I’ve seen it happen too many times, and it’s heartbreaking.

I believe, with every fiber of my being, that cocaine is the work of the devil—not because of fear-mongering, but because of the way it deceives, seduces, and destroys quietly, almost invisibly. It doesn’t just harm the person using it; it harms everyone around them the children, the family, the friends who love them, the wider community who loses their light.

And yet, I understand it’s complicated. People don’t choose addiction lightly. It often finds the people who are sensitive, thoughtful, and deeply introspective the ones who feel the world profoundly and want to escape that intensity, even for a moment. But that escape comes at an immense cost.

This isn’t about judgment it’s about grief. Grief for the wasted potential, the lost moments, the innocence chipped away, the bright minds dimmed. It’s a warning, not a condemnation: drugs like cocaine can steal more than just a few hours of a high. They can steal futures, creativity, and even humanity in subtle ways that are hard to recover from.

I hate cocaine because it’s selfish in the most insidious way. Not because it’s flashy or loud, but because it quietly erodes everything meaningful the capacity to love fully, to think deeply, to nurture others, to be present. And that’s why I will never understand how anyone can casually treat it as harmless, especially in spaces where children are present, where lives are still forming, and where potential could flourish.

Watching cocaine destroy people I admire, people I care about, and people who could have been extraordinary—it’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever witnessed. And I can only hope that sharing my reflections reminds others that the cost is far higher than the fleeting “fun” it promises. Because some things our minds, our hearts, our children, our potential are simply too precious to risk.

If you’re struggling, please reach out. There is nothing I understand more than addiction and I really feel like I could help anybody that needs helping hand. Sending so much love and light Ellie.