NEW YORK CITY, 2008
I wanted to die. But how? It was 5am and I’d had 15 drinks, $200 worth of cocaine and a handful of Vicodin.
Over the past few years my depression had been building and nights like this were becoming the norm.
I was a lonely alcoholic and I desperately wanted to love someone and be loved in return. But every time I tried to get close to another human being, I had crippling panic attacks that kept me isolated and alone. I’d had a few successful years of making music and sold tens of millions of records, but now my career was sputtering. I couldn’t find love or success, so I tried to buy happiness.
Moby in 2008
GETTY
Three years earlier I had spent
