The first time I dropped a pill was at a festival, just after graduating high school. After that, I’d use every now and then, mostly to experiment and make fun nights out even more fun. When I started DJing in clubs, things changed and I started snorting lines every weekend. My life was a party; I enthusiastically went all out.
I lied to myself for months, pretending I could handle that work-hard and party-hard lifestyle just fine. Every Friday, I’d forget I had been miserable from Monday to Wednesday.
I was so shocked at my own dark thoughts that I decided to sign up for a rehab programme that same evening. They have a name for this in treatment: rock bottom.Hardly anyone realised I was doing so bad because I was so good at hiding it. But even if they had said something about it, it probably wouldn't have made a difference. No matter how many times you’re told to do something about your drug use, hitting the bottom is usually the only way to see it for yourself.I was pretty hesitant about rehab. Because I was still functioning well socially and at work, I was afraid that my case wasn’t “bad enough”, and that they’d raise an eyebrow on seeing me. On the other hand, I was also afraid I’d be admitted immediately and they’d tell me I’d never be allowed to use drugs again. But these thoughts turned out to be misconceptions.“Last Friday, after a meaningless afterparty, I kept using ket and poppers alone for two hours in bed, and I couldn’t really distinguish reality from hallucination. It felt like I was going into a psychosis which I couldn't get out of, and it caused me to panic completely. It was so scary. But instead of stopping, I just kept going. Another line, another drag of poppers. All I wanted was to disappear, far away from here. As I write this, I'm sitting on my roof terrace, watching the sun slowly disappear behind the buildings. I might as well jump off this roof.”
After identifying the reasons for my use, we discussed new healthy coping strategies and decided on a quit date: the 30th of October, 2022. In the weeks leading up to this deadline, I used more drugs than ever, because I knew I was going to have to stop after that. On the last night, I celebrated my 26th birthday with all my mates and mixed six different types of drugs. When the party came to an end, around 5AM, I frantically looked for an afterparty, but couldn’t find any. I crawled into my bed crying.It’s been five months since I last used alcohol or drugs – I stopped drinking too, because drinking made it more likely for me to use drugs. My treatment, which I have now completed, lasted for 13 weeks. Initially, I was going to stop using for six months, but we soon decided to extend that to a year. That way, I get to experience all the seasons and the holidays sober. I sometimes flirt with the idea of never using alcohol or drugs again at all.
Two weeks after I quit, I also went on a date. I had let my date know in advance that I was no longer drinking and thought I’d share the rest during the date. But after less than half an hour, the guy asked me if I’d “just stopped drinking”, because he’d brought some GHB and coke with him “just in case”. He ordered one drink after another. When he had finished his eighth Old Fashioned, I ran away.Lots of people around me are actually contemplating their relationship with alcohol and drugs, but I’m often the only sober one in the room. I sometimes feel lonely, or even a little left out. I was at a restaurant for a birthday the other day, and while I was waiting in the line for the bathroom, a group of six people squeezed past me to snort some coke in the toilet. That felt strange: They used, and I didn't.
Despite all of this, quitting was easier than I thought it would be. When I first went out clubbing without using, I felt downright euphoric. It was such a huge win for me. I am also much more aware of what is happening in my life, and I can sense my limits much better.
Quitting has been a great decision for me, but the chaos in my head and my fear of loneliness are still present. Drugs were a quick fix for that, and now I’m learning how to deal with it in a more sustainable way. There’s still a long way to go. But what I know for sure is I'm never going back to numbing myself like I did before. Booze and drugs do not define me.