When I stopped taking drugs I got really depressed. I was struggling with life. It’s a bit chicken and egg. I was depressed because I’d stopped drinking and taking drugs, but I only drank and took drugs in the first place because I was depressed. Ultimately I’d rather be clean and depressed than on drugs and depressed. At least there’s a way out, and you’re reliant on your natural feelings – if you’re down you really are down; if you’re up, you are genuinely up.

With all my demons, and my mum away, and dad away, and the drink and drugs, the kids, the maintenance, the keeping fit, the obsessions, the depressions, in between all that I’ve managed to win four world titles, four UKs and four Masters. I don’t know how. I’ve won 24 ranking events, 10 Premier Leagues, more than 50 tournaments altogether. It’s not bad going for such a fuck-up!

I’ve tried a number of religions and gurus in my time, including Buddhism, but ultimately they didn’t do as much for my peace of mind as snooker.

Even though I was still running well, I didn’t feel good in myself. It’s funny: to the outside world I looked in great nick – healthy, trim, fit. Everybody was saying, you’re looking well, but I was in pieces. I wasn’t eating my way out of depression, but I was running my way out of my depression. But even the running didn’t always do the trick.