My descent into addiction and how psychedelics may have saved my life

*DISCLAIMER: This post is neither intended to be a "solution" or give any medical advice pertaining to drug addiction. Rather, the following is just a reflection on how I was able to find something that has been working for me.

Hello everyone, right off the bat I want to start this post by saying that while I have not touched heroin in quite some time, I still consider myself (and probably always will) a recovering addict. The terrible grip of drug addiction is strong and I do not want to give you all a false impression on the successfulness of my treatment.

As a 16 year old high school student who would have considered themselves a social outcast, I had very few friends and did not fit in well with the typical social cliques that were common at the time. One day, while eating lunch with a good friend of mine, he began telling me of how he had tried smoking marijuana the night before. I was fascinated by his story and how I could "escape reality" and change how my mind works by simply smoking a plant. I began to research marijuana and its psychoactive effects online and quickly became sort of "obsessed" with the idea of getting high. I was dying to try it. During this time, I started to research other drugs such as mushrooms and salvia as well. However, it wasn't until I was 18 years old that I actually tried marijuana and received its effects. I fell in love, and was even starting to become sort of popular at my school because the cool kids all smoked. I wanted to be the biggest pot-head in class haha. That popularity quickly faded as high school ended and I was quickly thrown back into the depths of social alienation.

As I grew older, my depression and loneliness grew as well. I finally came to the idea that instead of trying to fit in with others, I would escape to my own comfortable realms of consciousness by using drugs. Unfortunately, this method of "self-treatment" exacerbated my problems 10 fold. But I did not care. I wanted to try every drug out there and quickly climbed (or should I say descended) the ladder of drug use. This downward spiral was so quick that by age 21 I was abusing various prescription drugs, such as Xanax and Oxycodone. I was addicted and had not even realized it yet. Within a year, I was smoking crack and meth, and snorting powdered heroin. I remembered telling myself that I would never use a needle, but, just like how I told myself I would never try "hard" drugs, I was lying to myself.

At 23, I was completely lost and hopeless. I was a slave to the needle, injecting myself with heroin (sometimes with cocaine) several times a day (even though I have a huge needle phobia :/ ). Slowly, I was dying. The worst part about it was that I did not care. I did not care if the next shot I took would be the one that ended my life. I hated myself, shunned my supportive family, and everyone else who cared about me. Finally, my parents came to me with an ultimatum. Either I would agree to go to a detox clinic and receive treatment at a rehabilitation center, or they would cut me off completely. I agreed to go seek treatment, but it was for the wrong reasons. I hated where I lived and thought moving to go to rehab somewhere far away would be like a much needed vacation. There was not much thought on actually trying to quit using drugs.

I detoxed for 10 days on a Valium and Suboxone taper at a special clinic and, aside from the withdrawal at times, actually enjoyed my time there. The group AA and NA meetings held there everyday were fantastic and led by some incredibly inspiring people who I will never forget. For the first time since I had started using drugs, I wanted to quit. Or, at least I thought I did...

After the 10 day detox, I was driven to a rehab center for males ages 18-30. I absolutely loathed it. I hated it so much, that I would find reason after reason to dislike the facility further. I felt like I was in hell. My mind was so warped by drug addiction that I would be actively defiant to my superiors and rejected the 12 step program without even looking into it. I didn't need anyone's help to quit, I could do it on my own. I didn't buy any of the group meetings and disliked the staff. Even if they were formerly in my shoes, how could they possibly know my life struggle and the reasons I used drugs in the first place? I took the whole thing as some sort of brainwashing nonsense. I had convinced myself that I needed to get back home so I could be there for my family, when in reality, I just wanted to use again. After just 7 days in rehab, I left against medical advice. I was dropped off at a local hospital in the middle of nowhere, in a place where I had never been, hundreds of miles away from anyone I knew. I had a backpack and suitcase full of clothes, no money and a cellphone with about 50% battery left on it. The GPS on my dying cellphone told me that there was a greyhound station about 4 miles away. I grabbed my things and began walking.

As I was heading there, I was calling just about every contact on my phone, begging anyone I knew to buy me a greyhound ticket online so I could get back home. One of my friends was willing to help me out once I got to the bus station. About halfway there, I was able to hitchhike to the location on my GPS. When we pulled up, there was no greyhound station, only a few small abandoned buildings. The man I hitchhiked with felt for me but there was nothing he could do, so he made me get out of his car and he drove away. At this point I was completely panicking. There was two options: call the Rehab facility and have them bring me back or hope for a miracle. I absolutely refused to go back to Rehab so I began trying to hitchhike to a bigger city. No one would let me ride with them. I was completely out of luck right when that miracle finally came.

A friend (with a really big heart) I had met only once before at a music festival was driving 10 hours just to come pick me up and bring me another 12 hours back home. I could not believe it. I had never felt so trapped before in my life and I was finally about to be free. I waited for quite some time and when I saw my friend pull up in his truck, I almost couldn't believe it. The feeling was surreal to me.

Although I still believed that I was done with drug use, when I got home I celebrated with a four-pack of tallboys. Before I knew it, I was right back where I was before I had left. Completely addicted and hopeless. After a few more months of this, the same friend who was going to buy my greyhound ticket, reached out to me. "Hey man I know what you are going through right now. I was addicted to alcohol for years. It would've taken my life if I hadn't stopped when I had." He told me. I could not figure out how he could possibly beat his addiction if it was as bad as mine. I pleaded for an answer. "How? How did you stop?"

"I started using LSD about a year ago and integrating the experiences I have on it into my everyday life. It has really taught me how to have self control and has shown me the devastating effects alcohol was producing on my mind and body."

His answer was very intriguing to me, as I have always thought of psychedelic drugs to have powerful medicinal capabilities if used properly. I already had extensive experience with all sorts of psychedelic drugs, such as psilocybin mushrooms, LSD, and DMT. "So why did they not cure my addiction?" I asked myself. That's when it hit me. The only time I have ever taken drugs, there was one motive: To get as trashed as I could. I had been abusing psychedelic substances only for recreation, which was blinding me from the fact that I could instead be using them as tools to navigate my subconscious and target the root of my drug addiction, which I have come to realize is a product of depression, selfishness, hopelessness, and lack of self control. By taking psychedelic drugs in a now more serious, medicinal way (also allowing extended periods of time in between each psychedelic trip in order to be able to further integrate the experience into everyday life), I have been able to understand how those feelings can contribute to my addiction in a way like I had never experienced before. Everything made perfect sense as to why I was the way that I was, and even better yet, the solution of turning those feelings into positive emotions and being grateful for who I was became crystal clear.

It has now been just about a year since I had left rehab, and, although I have slipped up with drug use here and there, I have become so much stronger than I once was. I have gone back to school to study for a degree and have actual life goals now. I finally have hope that I will live to grow old and be successful one day. No longer am I stuck in the self-destructive thoughts like "I will always be a junkie and everyone hates me so who cares if I keep doing heroin?" I attribute this personal growth to using psychedelics and integrating the experiences they have bestowed upon me. I am not here to say that psychedelics have defeated my drug addiction or that they will defeat anyone else's, however, they have been a powerful stepping stone on my road to recovery. In fact, I firmly believe that if it weren't for psychedelics showing me a better alternative to my former lifestyle, I would be dead right now. If you are reading this and are in the middle of something similar or have been there before, please feel free to reach out to me or anyone else in this amazing community for help, or even just to talk. Breaking free from the vice grip of addiction is no easy task, and I have much more work to do. But I do know that I am happier, have amazing reasons to live, am more confident in what I know I can achieve, and I can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel. :D

Much love, KB