My addiction never really was prominent. At least - not at the start. See, I always thought I'd know I was getting addicted to something; like I'd get this feeling that'd hit me in the stomach and my brain would go: "Hey! You're addicted!". It's almost like trying to taste water. Plausible, albeit improbable- I never knew until years of what initially was just fooling around with friends in High School, lead to several court cases, nights in the watch house and several months of lost time
During my first year of High School, my Dad got offered a job about 8 hours north. We left half way through and stayed there until around middle of grade 10. During Grade 10 I got into my first actual relationship who I met at my first job at McDonalds.
Personally, I see this relationship to have been extremely toxic. Since my diagnosis I was always a far more quiet kid than previously. Being a computer gamer playing League of Legends until 3am with school at 7 was difficult but somehow I managed. Getting this job was a great confidence booster for me and significant in my life; especially considering it came with a girlfriend. Eventually coming out about my depression and suicidal thoughts, I was fought back with extensive emotional and manipulative abuse. I believe this may have very well been the crux of my isolation that would come later with use.
The first recreational drug I took was alcohol when I was 16. I was never really gripped by liquor. For me, all the elements of 'having a good time' were simply not there. I wanted it to be quick, almost instantaneous. I wanted that feeling to be known within less than a minute. I was quite small in stature - especially in contrast to your typical 16 year old guy. So it never took too much of anything to get me going. Alcohol has been the only exception to this. At the time, I was never invited to parties or gatherings. I was a computer gamer and coding geek who was only just about to get his braces. I fit all the stereotypes from being short and skinny, to bad teeth with red hair. I honestly wasn't off to a great start in High School.
Obviously trying to fit in was my endgame, but getting there would prove to be far more challenging and eventful than I could've imagined. I decided alcohol was fine and that would be it. I didn't immediately decide to turn to other substances, instead I did what we all did- trial and error. Party after party, drink after drink; I decided to push my limits - to drink more than I have before.
It was New Years Eve of 2014, I had just finished working at my job in a supermarket deli. I had finished a little after 9pm and was excited to go see my friends and meet new ones at a party a little out of town. I went and picked up someone of age to go buy me two bottles of vodka- a little overkill but I was young. I thought "More the Merrier!". Later on in life I found out the horrible truth- one is too many and a thousand is never enough.
I'll skip the shenanigans but I was passed out in a bathtub by the countdown- promptly timed after being thrown down a hill and trying to wrestle one of my bottles of Vodka off of my friends Military Commando father. Safe to say I don't remember much of this night- however from what I do recall; this was the most defining points of my life. When I first discovered that someone can make terrible- life long mistakes whilst having next to no control nor recollection. This was a game changer. One would assume a deterrent- I wish I did then.
A few months later I decided, Sure - alcohol is fun but let's try something else. I turned to pot near the end of being 16. At that time, It was nothing more than smoking a few joints with my close friends. I didn't smoke tobacco then, but this definitely led to that sideline nicotine addiction. I smoked weed maybe once every few months. By my senior year this eventuated into daily use, to the point of coming to classes, exams, even my state finals for my OP (ATAR score). I simply didn't care, it was just mucking around.
After the whole new years party ordeal I had first started to drift from my friends I'd known since Year 1, and swam to a more accepting group. It was my senior year that I created the typical stoner group.
Towards the end of that year with next to no ramifications - I would commit my first crime. Walking to my car with a couple of mates, we we're off to get high. School had just finished so we walked towards my car, however parked on the other side of the road was a delivery truck. A friend passed me his bag and told me to "start the engine". Me and another did just that. He came back with a package, I drove away. Unfortunately leaving a trace - my number plate; that a students mother had taken a picture of down the street. This part could go on for awhile so I'll leave it for another time. It's quite an eventful story and the beginning of another fork in friendship. But I was let off with a warning given we returned the laptop. I wasn't caught until roughly 4 months after the incident, it turned out to be a $4000 gaming laptop. This event in itself I believe, should have been the first warning sign for me to get on the road to recovery; however unfortunately It would take many many more lessons for me to truly start to understand what that entailed.
Finishing senior year, still smoking weed daily and going to parties every weekend; I started working in a Real Estate agency as an admin staff. I was already helping out at open homes and office work in my senior year with spare time- but my gap year took me into the world of business. Trying to tackle both this and my weed usage was proving to be hard, however my problems hadn't even begun to have started. My main roles were standard administration stuff, once a week I'd walk out letters. This proved to be very boring, surprisingly in contrast to the 7 hours of excel databasing. This one day a week of walking letters also proved to be a very promising opportunity to get high. This was also a very big rudder on my addiction ship that I feel truly played a part in sailing me to where I was at my worst. It was when I started to care less about what I cared about most; My career.
Within the first few months of finishing school I was pretty determined to just smoke weed and drink alcohol. I wasn't that keen on trying anything else, I've always had terrible anxiety so I would always overthink trying new things; especially drugs. My group of friends was a different story. The next drug I decided to try was LSD, which for me was quite a jump from pot. That's a pretty long and adventurous story so I think I'll leave that for another time; but it was the first time I had "ego death" and really sat down and rethought all my friendships and the direction I was headed. I understood and told myself that I should be hanging around these types of people anymore. Recovery seemed like an option now, with Highschool ffinished and I didn't need to fit in anymore. The pretending was over, Unfortunately so was my listening skills.
About a week or two after trying LSD, I went to my, at the time- best mates house. We'll call him Tom. I drove over to Tom's with my bong and weed. Not that I'd need it, Tom was a dealer and at the time was sourcing most of his stuff off the streets, but Tom - like myself, had a hidden computer gamer past. Tom knew about the darknet and began ordering things he couldn't usually get on the streets. LSD, MDMA, pill presses or maybe just really cheap but great quality weed. This in turn ended up being Tom's greatest 'achievement'. We were now all known for having the best and coolest drugs in our town. As such, I went over Tom's place with my weed and for what was meant to be just playing video games and smoking up- it turned into grabbing a package from the darknet and opening it up. This was fairly monumental for me in terms of my story as it was not only my 2nd/3rd time trying a new drug, but this day would become one of many.
We opened the package with intense secrecy and paranoia- just waiting for police to barge through. As soon as we got the wrapping open- there it was. Around a hundred small MDMA pills. We sat outside to smoke some cones and he began recording me. Making fun of the fact I wouldn't try MDMA. Tom was the highschool bully; and of course I decided to befriend the friendly giant. A huge mistake with hindsight. Tom then pointed to a pill he left on the table and I took it. No games we're played that day. Just music and dopamine. This was the beginning of my first 'noticeable' addiction; MDMA.
See I still didn't understand I was addicted to pot, but at least twice a week I would be on MDMA for the next 6 months + to come. Around this time the parties stopped being so frequent. Everyone's 18th had passed and things began to quieten down. This is where my isolation started to set in. During this time, my friendship group shriveled from the original 10-15 I sat with at these two long - joined lunch tables, eventuating into a group of 5 or so stoners, to now just 3 or 4 good mates. Over time, with each other having our own lives and being busy, I began to drive around and smoke weed with Tom every day, and maybe once a week we'd meet up with the others. I had no idea that this was another sign of my problems taking control of the wheel. I didn't mind of course, Tom and I enjoyed our time listening to music and talking absolute shit every afternoon. I'd go from wearing a suit in an office all day, to wearing tie-dye shirts and shorts by dark.
Coming into around the 3rd quarter of my Gap Year, I decided to squash the MDMA habit. This was surprisingly easy for me as It was simply due to the circumstances of the night. It involved myself, my childhood bestfriend who we'll call Alex. I got a call one night as I was going to sleep to "Come outside". I walked out and there was Alex and his girlfriend at my gate. They were at a party down the street and wanted me to come. I got changed and brought along a cap of mdma I had in my cupboard. At this time, Tom was selling more than ever. We would often spend our nights filling up thousands of capsules with crystal mdma. During the come up I had a very unwell feeling in my stomach, it was the worst come up i'd experienced with MDMA- this was followed by going out to the clubs.
In our uber we were pulled over by police outside one of the clubs. They were looking for someone and fortunately it wasn't us. We got out and lined up, looked over to our left and on the opposite side of the street were roughly 20 or so police dogs being walked and escorted by around 40-50 police. Tonight was the night the local police force decided to do a drug sweep of the cities nightlife. Riddled throughout the two stories of the club were officers drug testing people. It was fairly quiet of a night and we were freaking out and tried to act as normal as possible. Alex was notoriously anxious and his girlfriend later got with another guy whilst we all sat together at a table. All in all it was a terrible night with a terrible feeling on the drug, so this is where my frequent use came to an end. I've only done it 3 or so times since that night, four years ago. Averaging once a year. I had successfully beaten my MDMA addiction, and still to this day I neither crave nor feel like it's something I need to feel great at clubs or parties. This was over a course of years however, so it wasn't completely over; just yet.
Coming into my second year out of highschool, I was still working my office job. I had stopped being friends with Tom due to a bunch of reasons. But essentially the tipping point was Tom crashing my car and stringing me along for 4 months about eventually paying me to fix it, which I ended up taking him to court over and winning. We haven't talked since. This was a long story with other wrongdoings and mistakes, will definitely save that for another story in terms of my Road to Recovery.
I digress; about to come into my second year out of highschool - it was New Years Eve 2016. I was on a road trip with Alex visiting my old high school friends around 8 hours north. I had gone up about 2 weeks before just by myself and stayed in an AirBnB on the beach. At the time, I had recently stopped taking MDMA and was only smoking pot every day. I'd drink maybe every other weekend. Nothing crazy, but enough to further the dent in my life. Alex and I arrived, bought some food and walked into our apartment. I invited a girl I had a fling with and dated a year or two back long distance. We'll call her Charlotte. She would be my second girlfriend, after dating one of my friends for 2 years of course. I had seen her daily on my first trip up, I was madly and terribly infatuated with her; I had been for years. She was a year younger than myself and was somewhat known among my group of friends up there as being somewhat floozy and a bit of a cheat when she was drunk. I had no fear, I had natural dopamine and oxytocin and I was very much enjoying it. She was dating someone at the time and I made sure although she had made me very much aware of her feelings for me and that she was stuck in her relationship, I never made any advances nor her the wiser of how I had felt. Until one night of course.
This is a pretty long story in itself, especially given the two trips up to see her and my friends. I'll keep this for the other stories in terms of my list of crux's for my road to recovery. This was definitely top 3 of my reasons to get sober. Not necessarily to be sober for her, but more so because of the friendships i ruined in a matter of weeks. See, during that first trip up there, on the last night she had come into my bed and started getting on top of me. She was drunk, I was drunk and High, she was dating someone and I had no idea how to handle to this. I never made any advances, it was all her. Plenty of excuses were made, it was the alcohol, it was the weed. All plausibly true, however for the road to recovery to even begin; one must understand there are no excuses for the past; at least very few. The ones that may pose as valid of course were all related to substance use. Unfortunately I was now completely ignorant to fact she was taken, and ultimately decided to let it happen. A friend walked in half way and to this day has surprisingly never said a word. However I do think people we're starting to clue on to our friendship being more than what it seemed.
Regardless, two weeks later I went up again with Alex for New Years. I wanted to introduce Alex to my friends. My group up there were your stereotypical Dungeons & Dragons computer nerds, Alex was of course my very first friend in primary school, but also came to be quite popular in highschool. In a way it was a sort of flex to show off my 'cool friends'.
The vanity proved to be a part of my downfall. Alex had a problem with controlling himself around girls, especially attractive ones. Charlotte was still dating someone, a week prior however she had broken up with him 3 times in one week. He kept coming back, she has always been incredibly caring and selfless; you know how it goes. I digress, she was obviously attracted to Alex but In my mind, I was pretty certain he would never get with his best mates Ex, especially if he still had feelings for her. It was the night before NYE I had walked in on them. A few times, But I'd always try and convince myself it wasn't what it seemed. I'll keep most of this story for the another, but essentially this would come to be one of the darkest weeks of my life. NYE came around and after a long talk with Alex and Charlotte separately, they reassured me nothing had happened and we were still cool to have a party. And like Garth we Partied on. Later that night I walked in on them again, of course inebriated from alcohol and copious amounts of weed; I stumbled my way out of the apartment and walked down a highway into oncoming traffic. Deciding that I had had enough of life and all it's 'joys and wonders', I was fully content with ending my life. Fortunately I had a moment of empathy and decided to make my way down to the beach instead of passing on my trauma to some unbeknownst driver. I tried to drown myself in the ocean with some heavy rocks. This attempt was not successful fortunately; and still- the worst was yet to come.
A grueling 8 hour silent drive with Alex back to our city began a defining chapter in both Alex and my lives. This was when we started to truly understand our actions had consequences. And thus started the second year out of Highschool and my worst and most eventful addiction ever; Pharmaceutical Prescriptions. No matter what it was, be it Oxycodone or Xanax, Cough Syrup with Codeine or pain pills that I'd learn to filter out the fillers and binders through various scientific methods. This would be the year I started to truly dabble with drugs. I was still smoking pot every day, however I had begun a Lean addiction. The HipHop pop culture drug Lean, essentially codeine cough syrup; would be one of my worst addictions to overcome yet. I had started this of course due to it's prominence in the music I listened to, the people I hung out with, but mainly due to the numbing feeling it gave me. 2017 was the year to be numb, for me. I had decided to pack my things and move in with my grandparents in one of our Capital Cities.
I got a job with the awarded No. 1 for the inner city area as his Personal Assistant. He was high performing and expected just as much from myself. I had cut down my weed usage for the first time in years to just once a week. This was monumental for me. Eventually I started to miss days of work to stay home and get high on some drugs I found on the darknet, always tinkering and trying to new stuff. My boss of course took notice of this, and eventually after around 3 months of working there I decided to tell my story to my mentor. My mentor who I was his PA to, had a history of helping drug addicted friends and mentorees of substance use. He would tell me stories of how they were using this and that, and now worked as head of ________ whatever. I knew i should always keep this close to me, but over time I decided enough is enough. I need help. I sat down with him in the boardroom and told him everything. Especially that I had managed to cut down to once a week. He was very accepting about this and reassured me it would be okay and we would work on this together. Two days later I was called in by my Director and sat down with him and my mentor and said my mentor had told him of my substance use and this was against my contract and that I was now fired. I had done several types of pharmaceuticals to designer drugs, from hallucinogenics to dissosociatives. From Xanax to Morphine. None had made me felt as numb as I did that day.
I drove to my grandparents, packed a bag and headed home without telling anyone. I was completely ashamed. What would my family think of me, what could I possibly say to them, could I lie? No. The only way forward was the truth. Despite getting on anti-depressants a year prior, they were the only drugs my parents knew about; besides weed. They had thought I'd stopped months and months ago; they never knew to what extent it continued. I was always very secretive about my use, not just my family but my friends too; even those who used. 2017 went from being the year I truly grew into my business skin and used my tenacity and audacious personality to my advantage into what would be my peak drug use period. I had lost most of my friends from all my foolery of previous drug mishaps and life lessons. I was left with myself. There were no more parties, at least that I was still allowed to come to. I was put on an undisclosed blacklist as "things always go to shit" when I'm invited. I'd drive out to my groups old stoner spots and smoke weed and eat bars of Xanax. Sit there with my sound system with no-one to enjoy it with; just alone with my numbness. My anti-depressants we're merely making me baselined. No enjoyment and no true sadness/depression; just numb. The pharmaceuticals were my only form of enjoyment- weed simply wasn't sufficing it. Even then when I turned to downers, I still rarely felt anything. I was always chasing that feeling, and it never came- no matter how much I took.
Over the next 2 years I spent unemployed with no friends and looked down upon by my family. I became the black sheep among the herd. I developed horrible acne that I have only recently just cleared up through the use of Accutane, a highly effective but horrible acne medication. I moved in with another two childhood bestfriends about 6 months after being fired. I got kicked out due to going into another psychosis and thought they were trying to attack me; jumped off a two story building dislocating my arm and driving away. Lost both friendships, but one I have started to mend. This 2 year period was filled with countless stories of redemption and hardship; most of which I'll save for another time. All that's needed for now is to know it was one of the loneliest and darkest periods of my life. Multiple suicide attempts, homelessness, crashing 3 cars, every time I saved up enough well fare and/or used my insurance write off i'd buy another. Each time less and less worth. My addiction started to not just show through my skin but also my car. From decent to not bad to shit. The decline in quality was a true reflection of myself. There was no glory nor enjoyment in what I was doing, it was simply being lost in a forest of thoughts; with only a fork in the road being continuing this behaviour, or the road to recovery. Safe to say I didn't opt for the latter; at least not yet.
I had my first drug induced psychosis around mid 2018. I started to hallucinate people and having conversations with them. At one point I thought I was abducted by aliens. I was put into a psych ward for I believe a week or two. I managed to abuse the system and when asked what medication I was taking and needed, I simply named all the ones I wanted to get high off. This would be the second time I managed to go more than a week without weed. Which was my biggest addiction, before getting into pharmaceuticals.
Several court cases later, I had picked myself up enough to move back to the city again for my aspiration of being in Real Estate. I had another job lined up with a different agency; I had worked there for a week- I got it just after being fired when I found my little brothers prescription bottle of Dexamphetamine. This would come to be one of the only stimulants I'd abuse besides MDMA or later his Ritilin. I was on a high when I got it - everyone thought I was finally back on track. 30 pills in the bottle with no repeat; that's 30 days of potential and 30 days to find another repeat. I never did, however I did find myself in another suicide attempt.
Each morning I'd wake up and take a pill; couch surfing at different friends places in the city. But of course that is a story for another time. I digress, I moved into a sharehouse around 10 minutes drive from the office. I was due to start in two weeks, however on the drive up there I stopped by one of my xanax dealers and grabbed a bunch for my seemingly never ending last horrah. I became bed ridden for those two weeks, turning my relatively nice looking part of the house into squalor. My acne became worse and I was told by my sister (whom also had substance use problems) to watch Shameless, a TV show on netflix. Little did I know this would be the biggest turning point of my life so far and finally putting me on the road to recovery. One of the main characters in the show goes to rehab. He was of similar age to me and I used this as inspiration for looking into rehab. I was essentially kicked out of the sharehouse and had packed all my belongings and cleaned out the entire room, bathroom etc. spotless ready to go within the hour.
Off I went, driving back home ashamed again. It was becoming a pattern all too frequent. I started to stop smoking weed daily; at this point the longest 'sober' i had been besides my first stint at Real Estate with my mentor - being one week; cutting down my pot usage to once every few days was a great sign. Sure it could've been better, but It was surely the start of better times. At least i'd imagined. After looking into rehab and procrastinating for a few months, the decision was made for me. My parents decided enough is enough and I needed the push. My family had just moved back to that town Alex and I visited, it was the start of 2019.
I flew down and met my grandparents who took me to rehab. One would assume that I was committed by now. But what would rehab be with another last horrah?! I managed to smuggle several different types and amounts of drugs onto the plane and took them with me 'for rehab'. This would come to be one of my worst decisions I could've made. Coming into rehab with my bags full, I sat on the couch. Around an hour earlier I had taken copious amounts of Benzodiazipines and designer benzos to help quell my anxiety; among other substances of course. This proved to be a cocktail of disaster. I have next to no memory of this day- all I have is from stories I got told later by staff and other people in the community. I sat down, and fell unconscious on the reception couch. An ambulance was called and I was taken in for respiratory depression. I was resuscitated and brought back. The only thing I remember of those 3 days in hospital was the first hour of waking up. The first thing I did when I awoke to my dangerously low pulse and canular in one arm, was ask to go to the bathroom. I did so for one reason, to get high again. I somehow still had all my drugs on me so there I went again. I walked back and everything went blurry. I ended up having a cigarette with two other patients my age outside the hospital. A nurse came out and told us we had to leave and were discharged due to being too close. I took an uber with one guy, dropped him home and I went back to my grandparents. I thought i'd stop 10 minutes walk away so I could have a smoke on the way back. I got out, and the next thing I remember is being interrogated by police.
Turns out I had broken into a home on that walk back. I had also taken things from cars and put them in a bag. This is completely opposite to who I am. Unfortunately, Benzos have a tendency to do this to a person. It's the methamphetamine for downers. I then woke up in a cellroom next to some guy. We were both put in these cold anti-suicide dresses. I had court that morning for a few offences, that alike many of the others I had committed between 2017-2019; I had the sentencing adjourned for 2 months. To get back into rehab, I had to go through detox again. Instead of doing a month at home like I did the first time- We walked down the street from the courthouse to a hospital that had a drug detox clinic. We waited inside and got my name down. A week later I fly back down and gave them my phone and other devices and went on a 15 day inpatient detox. No electronics, just books and whoever else in there with you. As someone heavily reliant on their phone this was difficult but I did it. From what was daunting and terrifying to think I would have no contact with the outside world, couldn't leave to have a smoke etc. It truly detoxified my body of all substances and habits. This was a temporary fix of course, the real work would come in later. After 15 days meeting some truly unique people with some incredible stories ; i was taken immediately to rehab. No pit stops, no room for error. I began a 3 month stay in a center that was situated on a farm.
I didn't leave my room besides for classes and sometimes dinner and lunch, for the first two weeks. I stayed inside in the blazing heat with no cooling in a pretty dingy accommodation. Was far better than being homeless of course, so I found a book; 1984, and started to read. This would also be the first time I started reading since primary school. I finished quite a few books in rehab, I was very proud of myself. I was given the opportunity to be made manager of the Kitchen, and later on the House Manager for the entire community acting as the main conduit between staff and us addicts. These were paid positions that involved quite a bit of timetable making for the residents, making sure everyone is doing their designated jobs etc. The manager of the managers. Being the youngest person in the rehab - it was definitely awkward at first. However over time and through my roles, I got to learn many things again, and more pertinently - how to be confident again.
Rehab and Detox were the best things I ever did. Sure I made some terrible decisions to get there, some of my worst. However if that's what it took for me to go on this road to recovery - I would not be 14 months sober this week.
I had a court appearance after another adjournment. I managed to get 150 hours community service and no criminal record for the break and enter. I have nearly completed this and am due to move back down to the city around June. The past 6 years have really taken their toll on my body. My memory in particular is still terrible. Unfortunately with Benzodiazipines there's a speculated risk of significantly increase risk of early-onset dementia. More studies are needed to confirm if the spike is related to cause or just correlation. However for example I cannot remember what I did earlier today, yesterday or the day before. It seems days are almost non existent, and it's merely just hours and minutes. What feels like a month ago in my memories was really just a week ago. It sounds relatively normal however this is not the case for me. According to the doctors my brain is definitely still repairing and it is unclear whether I will ever get back to how I use to be. I've got some sore bones and joint issues from dislocating my arm a few times during drug induced shenanigans, but besides that, the memory issues and the plethora of relationships I've destroyed; that's it.
There's far more benefits of course! I can go to a friends place, even for a small gathering. Everyone can drink and I sit there pretty happy just enjoying the situation sober. I can walk down the street without looking over my shoulder. Even getting groceries is easier. The only drug I do is nicotine. Once every other week I like to go on a scenic drive. I'll roll a few smokes and just listen to music and drive along the beach. It's simple but beautiful. I couldn't have come to enjoy these things without going to detox and rehab. I couldn't have come to appreciate not just the smaller things, but my family and friends- especially those who stuck by me, without Rehab and detox. This is what I believe the Road to Recovery is meant to feel like. It's bitter sweet, but ultimately if you sit back and think of where you were then and now; it's purely sweet.
To this day, Alex and I still talk. Almost every other night on the phone. We'll play some video games online occasionally . I went down and saw him the other month for his birthday. He is still addicted to weed and is very open about how much he hates it and wants to be sober. He says I've inspired him to get clean, although quite a few steps need to be made. Fortunately the template for sobriety and the Road to Recovery is simple. The real hard work comes in maintaining your sobriety - not getting it. This is something I may very well have to work on every day of my life; although I don't personally remind myself that fact - it's almost a little daunting. As one wise lady once told me; the quickest way to climb the mountain is one step at a time.
The Road to Recovery doesn't neccessarily need to have a beginning nor an end. I always say; the ball is ALWAYS in your court.
Learn the holistic approach, and if needed a medical crutch in terms of substance use disorder medications. They're not pleasant but they're not meant to be. All they're meant to do is work. You can put it off for as long as you'd like/possible. That is fine. As I said, end of the day the only person who can truly pick you up from that path in the forest; is yourself. Believe in yourself, trust yourself; but more importantly learn to understand yourself. Therapy is paramount in terms of recovery; it may not be comfortable the first or few times but you'll get there. Don't take my word for it; take the millions across the globe that are still maintaining their sobriety on their Road to Recovery. Look into ACT, CBT, DBT. Google and see where the closest NA/AA meetings are. SMART recovery, ATODS, whatever programs there are. Give them a go."