Bjorn Borg reveals drug addiction, London rehab in new extracts from autobiography

Bjorn Borg has gone public with a longtime private struggle, acknowledging for the first time in extracts from his autobiography Heartbeats that he battled a drug addiction. The 11-time Grand Slam champion, renowned for his stoic on-court persona, describes a path from retirement-induced loneliness to self-medication with drugs, pills and alcohol, a journey that culminated in a dramatic relapse during the 1990s.

The lead themes in the excerpts center on a career that peaked early and the emotional toll of stepping away from tennis. Borg writes that retirement at 25 shocked the sporting world, but more persistent was a sense of isolation. “Despite the relief of finally having freedom, those feelings of loneliness and rootlessness stuck around,” he writes. He adds that he often asked himself, “Where do I belong? Where’s home, really?” Those questions, he says, accompanied years of moving between continents, tabloids and a relentless spotlight that lingered long after he left the tour.

The book also chronicles a turbulent arc in the late 1980s and early 1990s that began with a relapse during a halted attempt at a comeback. In the extracts, Borg details a collapse en route to a tournament in Holland with his father, a moment that underscores how fragile his health and outlook had become. The narrative moves through the period after his initial retirement, a time when he describes his life as a mix of wealth and celebrity with a growing reliance on substances as a way to cope with dark thoughts that hovered despite his success.

Borg places a pivotal hospitalization in 1989 at the center of the story. He recounts being rushed to hospital and having to have his stomach pumped after ingesting a dangerous mix of pills and alcohol. Media at the time suggested a suicide attempt, but Borg and his former wife, Loredana Berte, present a different account in Heartbeats. “That turned into global headlines as a suicide attempt. But it wasn’t that,” Borg writes. “I never intended to end my life. What happened was that I had a dangerous mix of drugs, pills, and alcohol in my system, and it knocked me out.” He adds that the episode, while not a planned act, served as a wake-up call that the problem was spiraling out of control and “a cry for help” that had to be faced.

The extracts then detail a determined effort to quit by isolating himself from his old life and returning to tennis as a form of rehab. Borg describes moving to London, where he checked into what he calls a personal rehab center—staying at a city hotel and training daily at the Queen’s Club with top players. He emphasizes that this was a deliberate, secretive phase, designed to rebuild routines away from familiar faces and tempting environments. “I left, packing only what I really needed: rackets, shoes, and clothes. I checked into one of the most luxurious hotels in the city, a place I’d stayed many times before. That became my personal rehab center and my base for the foreseeable future,” he writes. The support from the London tennis community is described as crucial, while Borg notes a pervasive, invisible network of people who sought to supply drugs, even with his money and fame acting as a lure.

The return to form, however, was not without a new breach of resolve. Borg recalls a relapse marked by a European tournament that rekindled old habits and the sense that the body finally “gave out.” He writes of waking in a hospital room, tubes attached and his father standing nearby, asking after his condition. The moment remains among the most painful for Borg, who says, “To this day, I’m ashamed just thinking about it. That was the worst shame of all, that my drug problem had reached such a level, with such serious consequences, and all in front of my own father.” The admission lays bare a lifetime of private battles that clashed with public triumphs.

The narrative also turns to the human costs of a life spent in the glare of media attention and the demands of a high-profile marriage. Borg discusses his marriage to Berte and the period in Milan, describing it as The Dark Years in the city. He recounts the strain of constant upheaval, arguing with his partner while attempting to care for their son, Robin. The decision to have Robin live with Borg, Berte, and later in Milan, and the eventual move back to Sweden, is framed as fraught with anxiety and regret. Borg acknowledges the pain he caused his family during those years and notes that Robin’s perspective has shifted since, with the son saying he is “moved on and doesn’t like looking back.”

In a candid self-assessment, Borg admits that the decision to retreat from the sport and time away from family life were not just professional missteps but deeply personal ones. He reflects on the solitude of elite sport, where the world’s best players are under constant scrutiny and pressure. In his own words, his ego played a role in those decisions, and he recognizes that “I was selfish in quitting when I did, and that’s something I can admit that I regret today.” He adds that sometimes a person can become stubborn to a fault, and wonders what might have happened had he taken a longer break or simply allowed himself space to heal.

The extracts also touch on Borg’s broader public life and his relationship with fans and observers who watched him dismantle and redefine the sport. He notes that, despite the public’s perception of him as emotionally reserved, the private life behind the Iceman persona was anything but simple. The book’s publication offers a rare, unvarnished glimpse into a figure who helped shape modern tennis but who had kept much of his private life out of public view for decades. As Borg continues to appear at public events and engage with the sport he helped elevate, readers receive a portrait of a man who faced intense personal demons with a mixture of pride, remorse, and hard-won resolve.

The revelations come as tennis and sports communities increasingly recognize the importance of openness about mental health and addiction. Borg’s account adds to a growing archive of athlete memoirs that explore the costs of immense fame and the long path to recovery. While the extracts provide a window into a private struggle, they also highlight a broader question about how sports histories remember champions who endured personal battles away from the spotlight. Borg, in these pages, frames his story as a work in progress—one that does not erase his on-court achievements, but complicates the narrative with a reminder of the human vulnerability that can lie beneath a champion’s calm exterior.