A Room Full of Hope: My Day at the Naloxone Citywide Conference
So, yeah…it’s been a minute.
I haven’t forgotten about this blog, and I definitely didn’t lose interest. Honestly, life has just been absolutely stacked. I’ve had so much going on that sitting down to write has just felt impossible. Not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I had too much! So I’m back…talking about Naloxone.
Since my last blog post, I’ve somehow managed to:
- travel solo around Costa Rica for three weeks,
- start a new job,
- keep rebuilding my life, routine and confidence,
- and take care of myself in the middle of all that.
But here I am, back at the keyboard at 3 am- because if I don’t start now, when will I?
When I turned up it was in the building next door to where I have some of my lectures, so I felt weirdly at home right away. And then I spotted Mary, my old worker, whom I haven’t seen in ages. We had a massive hug and just seeing her grounded me straight away. It felt like reconnecting with a bit of strength I’d forgotten I had.
I was there because the harm reduction lead had asked me to do “a bit of a talk.” In my head that meant maybe twenty people in a breakout room.
Nope.
I walked into a big hall of around two hundred people: academics, police, senior leaders, and people who’ve been doing harm reduction work for decades. Thank goodness I’d actually prepared something. If I’d rocked up empty-handed, I’d have died inside.
My First Time on Stage With a Microphone
My talk was fairly early in the day, which was a blessing, less time to panic and talk myself out of it. I’ve never stood on a stage and told my story to a crowd like that before. Not with a mic. Not with my slides behind me. Not with that many eyes looking right at me.
I was nervous. Properly nervous.
And when I started speaking, I surprised myself by getting emotional. Not in a dramatic way, just that lump in the throat, breath-catching moment where the reality of what you’re saying hits you mid-sentence.
But I held it together, took a breath, and carried on. My speech was about why Naloxone is so important and why it should be in every workplace, college, library and church. It was nerve wracking talking about such an emotional time of my life but I’m so glad I did. Listening to the feedback I think I got my message across, that human life is valuable and everyone deserves the chance to see another sunrise. Taking drugs does not make somebody a bad person and there is no excuse for preventing access to a life-saving treatment.
The second I came off stage, my brain started doing the whole “You should’ve spoken slower… you didn’t sound natural enough… you should’ve said this…” routine. Classic me. But Mary grabbed me and said I’d done really well, and a few other people echoed the same thing, so I’m choosing to trust that instead of the self-doubt voice.
What I Took From the Day
One of the speakers I was really struck by was Professor Alex Stevens, Chair of Criminology at the University of Sheffield. He talked about nitazines and the urgency of getting ahead of the next potential wave of drug-related deaths. It was complex stuff, but he explained it in a way that actually made sense, and I could only hope the people who needed to listen were listening.
The whole day was full of people quietly doing the most important work, behind the scenes, to get naloxone into as many hands as possible. I came away feeling hopeful in a way I haven’t felt for a long time. Like change is actually happening, and I get to be part of it.
What Happened Afterwards
The feedback from my talk has honestly blown me away. I’ve made some brilliant connections, had some genuinely encouraging conversations… and an academic is going to see if a drug website is interested in publishing my speech.
It all feels a bit surreal, but in a good way.
And weirdly enough, this whole experience has reminded me why I started blogging in the first place: to share my voice, my experience, and the stuff that matters to me. So yes, this post is my comeback. And hopefully the first of many.
Walking out of that conference, I realised how far I’ve come and how much further I still want to go. Not just in harm reduction work, but in using my voice in rooms I never thought I’d step into. If sharing my story means someone gets trained, someone feels seen, or someone stays alive long enough to get another chance, then it’s worth every shaky breath on that stage.
I’ve missed writing.
And I’ve missed this.. having a space to make sense of everything I’m doing, learning, surviving, and building.
So… I’m back..
So What Now?
Coming away from the conference, I didn’t just feel inspired. I felt fired up. And I want to turn that energy into something real.
If you live in Sheffield and want naloxone:
You can get it for free from drug services, pharmacies, or organisations like Likewise and Change Grow Live. If you use drugs, love someone who does, work with the public, or you’re just a decent human who wants to be prepared, please get one. It saves lives. No drama, no judgement.
I’ve also been invited into some early conversations with South Yorkshire Police about future lived experience work around harm reduction, which I’m really excited about. If that develops, I’ll share more.
And on campus?
I want to bring naloxone awareness to the University of Sheffield. I’d love to help run sessions for students and staff about recognising overdoses and using naloxone safely. If I can help get even one person trained, that’s worth it.
This is the start of something, not the end of a blog post.
Wow! What a thing to do, I’m proud of you (a complete stranger but also Mary’s mum) What you’ve done is incredible and you will keep helping others by being so open about recovery.
Aww thanks so much ..pleased to ‘meet’ you Mary’s mum! ( Mary is amazing 😉)