PJ Gallagher: 'I still find it hard to believe people because addiction tells so many lies'
PJ Gallagher: "I do think I’m just a naturally very lucky person and I’m not sure why or where that comes from."
Yikes, where do I start? I was adopted, moved to Dublin, went through three foster houses that I only just learned about, and eventually ended up with my parents and lived with them and my sister in a 1980s government mental health experiment where six very mentally unwell people came to live in our home too. Unsurprisingly, it was pretty dysfunctional and there was a lot of booze. We also had a dog.
One of my earliest memories is the day my sister arrived home for the first time. She was adopted too and I was never told a sister or another baby was coming to the house. Just one day, I was told that I had a sister and then we all ate spaghetti hoops or something. Like, nobody was pregnant or anything and I certainly don’t remember any baby prep happening at home. One day I was an only child and the next day I had a sister and spaghetti hoops.
I do think I’m just a naturally very lucky person and I’m not sure why or where that comes from. I’m not particularly fantastic at anything but I do have a way of working things out.
Living with other people’s addiction and being helpless to stop it [is the greatest challenge I’ve faced]. It gives you a lot of baggage you just can’t shake off.
They drown in lies they tell themselves and you, and no matter what, you’ll always be second place to whatever a person is addicted to. It’s very hard to feel comfortable with yourself or anyone else after years of that.
Winning a motorcycle race [is my proudest achievement]. Nothing in the world has ever felt that good and nothing ever will again. Steve McQueen used to say that racing is life and everything else is just waiting. Comparatively, he’s not wrong. True happiness comes from motorcycles.
I believe I’m open-minded and not judgemental and I’ve no problem being proved wrong. I genuinely like most people.
My pal Stefanie Preissner [is the person I turn to most]. She’s the best friend a person could ever have. From listening to me piss and moan about everyday nonsense to literally saving my life, she’s done it all. She’s family to me now and seems to somehow always know what to say. She’s the greatest adult I know and I love her.
What is the life lesson I would like to pass on? Honestly, I’m not qualified to answer that at all. Stay lucky I guess. For most of my life, I’ve just been a little stupid and a lot lucky.
It’s better to be a failure than a critic. That’s the best advice I’ve been given. Don’t point the fingers, try it yourself. Whatever it is.
I’ve no real desire to be remembered at all, I hope my kids get something out of remembering me but once I have fun while I’m alive, that’s all that matters.
I’d change loads of things from my past; my parents’ drinking, waiting so long to get help with mental illness, things I’ve said, days I was an asshole, even haircuts I had in the 90s. I don’t regret how I managed most things but there are thousands of things I’d change or avoid given half a chance. Granted, it may have made me stronger but I’d take rich and weak any day of the week.
I’ve been doing my best and I’ll keep at it but my impact [on climate change] as one person is so minimal, I’m not going to batter myself over it.
Apparently, the worst thing you can do for the environment is have kids and I’ve just had two of them. I love them though so I’ll keep on keeping on.
My greatest skill is telling stories in one form or another. I used to not value that very much compared to other trades and jobs but I’m learning more now about how positive that can be.
Not being able to look after myself one day scares me most. Thinking that maybe one day mental illness will win and I’ll lose. I don’t think it’ll ever happen but it still scares the shit out of me when I let it.
I’ll never know the answer to that [where I would be if I took a different fork in the road] but having left school at 16, lived with addiction, and suffered mental illness, statistics would say I’d be getting released from prison around now. I guess I really am just a lucky man.
- Madhouse by PJ Gallagher, published by Penguin Sandycove, is out now.
