Inhalant Use in Young People

Hopefully maybe someone could relate. I know it’s not fully addiction focused like my last one but I think a lot of people that suffer with addiction may experience these

I cared the first time, the second time etc, I don’t care anymore. Why would I? My wife tells me to be honest about how I feel and when I feel tempted to relapse and every time I’m honest that I’m doing poorly, I get the silent treatment because it’s “depressing”

So I stopped talking about it, and I’ve been craving it so bad for weeks now. Tonight shit just hit the fan and I couldn’t stay clean anymore. I know my wife would only be upset and probably ignore me for days and then not want to hear about it again so why bother.

I (18 m) regret going to rehab and getting off meth so much. The whole reason i wanted to get clean is cuz i thought maybe, just maybe i'd feel a little better and not want to off myself because you cant give up if youve never even tried to be okay, y'know what i mean? I really tried. Went to rehab for 3 fuckimg months. Literally threw 3 months of my life down the drain just to come out of it feeling worse. Im 19 in a few months, have to move out and get a job, get my life back on track, go back to school and graduate, try to get into uni and all this fucking bullshit and i just dont feel like i can do it. Sure i was paranoid af and thought i was dying before but idk, it just feels so much worse to really try to improve your life and do the exact opposite. Its really discouraging because i just wanted to feel a little better but instead im just scared and confused and so miserable and i know i wouldn't be feeling like this if i was still using. I regret it so much. Im not going to off myself like i was planning (i was gonna do that if i didnt feel better after 3 months) because i had two friends die recently and most of my friends knew them plus somebody one of my friends was close with who i didnt know also died and i think it would be rather inconsiderate to kill another one of their friends, i have a cat who loves me plus also death is failure by default. Idk exactly what my point here is other than the fact that getting clean made me feel so much worse and if I'd known this is what would happen i never wouldve quit. Im not going to tell any of my friends because i dont really want to worry anyone and im still going to try but i really dont see it going anywhere. Also, ive been out for a month and literally no one has agreed to seeing me, none of my friends have reached out, no one even opens my messages and it feels really fuckimg horrible like, what a great way to show someone just how much it woupdnt matter if they disappeared. Ig this is just me complaining about my life plus theres a bit of sh involved but im not going to go into detail about that. In three ish hours im meeting with a friend though and maybe that will help. Who knows, maybe im just really lonely and a bit of social interaction will make me feel better. And just wondering have any of you guys ever been in a similar situation? Like getting clean kind of ruined your life or is that just me? Everyone i know talks about how great it was for them and how much happier they are now but it just kind of feels like i did something wrong or im inherently messed up in some way. This is long and i feel that theres no real point to what i'm saying but i kinda just needed to put this out there because its not like im gonna tell my friends and it doesn't help to keep shit bottled up all the time

Today marks one full year since I took my last bong rip, and it’s a day I honestly never thought I’d see when I first started this journey.
I’d been a chronic cannabis user, basically all day, every day, for 14 years when I finally made the decision to quit. A huge part of my success has come from finding support and strength through this subreddit, and I want to take a moment to share my story and say thank you.
I didn’t even try weed until I finished grad school. Not once before that. But when I finally started, I dove in headfirst and didn’t take long to get to the point where I was smoking every day. It went from having no place in my life to becoming everything in my life.
I smoked when I woke up, before bed, when I woke up to pee in the middle of the night, when I went hiking, when I went to the gym, when I went to work, before movies, before meals, and during meals. There was hardly a part of my day that didn’t involve cannabis in some way. It was woven into virtually everything I did.
What started as something I did eventually became something that defined me. It was woven into my routines, my identity, and the way I experienced the world.
I’d tried to quit several times over the years. About 10 years ago, I even managed to go six months without weed after starting a job that randomly drug-tested employees. But rather than using that opportunity to stay sober, I found a way around it.
I started carrying fake pee with me everywhere I went at work, every single day, so that if I got selected for a random drug test, I’d be ready. I did this for years. Imagine the level of paranoia that comes with having to carry fake urine around with you every day, constantly worrying about being caught, on top of the anxiety and paranoia that the weed itself was already giving me.
Looking back, it’s hard to believe how far I went to protect my ability to keep using. I had an opportunity to move on from cannabis, and instead, I built an entire routine around making sure I could continue. That’s how deeply ingrained the habit had become.
Last year, around this time, I started seriously wanting to quit again. I made at least half a dozen attempts, but I never made it more than a day or two. There was always some bullshit excuse to start back up.
Then, on October 24th, 2025, I took my last bong rip.
I’m honestly not sure what was different this time. I just know that, for the first time, I truly wanted to quit for myself.
I leaned heavily into r/leaves. I went back and read as many posts as I could, looking for advice, reassurance, and a reminder that I wasn’t the only person going through this. I read about other people’s struggles, their withdrawal symptoms, their setbacks, their successes, and the ways their lives had changed after quitting.
I used this community as a source of support and strength through those first few months, and I don’t think I can overstate how much that helped.
The first two weeks were hell. I barely slept for the first week, and I could hardly eat for the first month until my appetite finally came back. Once I started sleeping normally again, I went through about two months of intensely vivid dreams. There were stretches when it felt like I was making things harder for myself rather than better.
Somewhere along the way, I found that pink cloud people talk about, and for a while, things actually started to feel easier.
But around three or four months in, I started convincing myself that maybe I was over my addiction. I seriously considered going back to using, telling myself I could keep it under control and just smoke while hiking or on the weekends. Maybe I could finally be one of those people who could use in moderation.
I made a post here asking you guys about it, and you gave me exactly the advice I needed to hear: I was fooling myself. After 14 years of using the way I did, there was little reason to believe I could suddenly moderate it. I’d probably end up right back where I’d started.
It wasn’t worth playing with fire.
I’m incredibly grateful I listened. A year later, I know there’s a very good chance I’d be starting all over again today if I’d decided to give moderation a try.
There’s something I’ve learned through both hiking and sobriety that I think is worth sharing.
I’ve walked from Mexico to Canada twice now. I’ve spent almost 10,000 miles on long-distance trails, crossing deserts, climbing mountains, pushing through exhaustion, and continuing forward when the finish line seemed impossibly far away.
But here’s the thing: I never started either of those hikes truly believing I could walk all the way from Mexico to Canada. It’s hard to wrap your mind around walking 2,600 or 3,000 miles when you’re standing at the beginning, looking at the enormity of what’s ahead of you.
Instead, I focused on what I knew I could do. I could take one more step. I could walk one more mile. And when I finished that mile, I could probably walk another.
Eventually, those steps become miles. Miles become days. One mile becomes a hundred, a hundred becomes a thousand, and eventually, you find yourself standing at the Canadian border, looking back at a journey you once couldn’t imagine completing.
I think recovery works much the same way.
When I first tried to quit, I couldn’t imagine never smoking weed again. The idea of living the rest of my life without something that had been part of virtually every day for 14 years was overwhelming. Thinking about forever made the whole thing feel impossible.
But I didn’t need to figure out forever. I just needed to get through that day. Then the next one. And then the next.
One step at a time. One day at a time.
I didn’t get to a year by somehow knowing I could do it all at once. I got here by continuing to take the next step, even when I couldn’t see very far down the trail.
And now, a year later, my life is better in ways I couldn’t fully appreciate when I was still using.
I think more clearly. I sleep better. I communicate better. I’m more present with my friends and family. My breathing feels clearer, and my business is thriving in ways I can now recognize cannabis was holding me back from achieving.
Most importantly, I feel like I’m actually showing up for my own life again.
At this point, I honestly can’t see how going back makes sense for me.
I know there are people out there who can use cannabis in moderation, and I have no problem with that. But for those of us who’ve struggled with compulsive use, we have to be willing to accept that moderation might not be a realistic option. For me, recognizing that truth has potentially saved me from spending another 14 years missing out on some of the most important parts of my life.
Letting go has given me the opportunity to reclaim so much of what I was missing.
When I quit last October, I never would have believed I’d make it this far. But now, recovery has become just as important a part of my life as consuming cannabis once was.
I don’t spend nearly as much time on Reddit anymore, but I wanted to come back here today and say something I’ve wanted to say for a while: I genuinely don’t know if I could have made it through those first couple of months without the support and guidance I found in this community.
Thank you for sharing your experiences, for being honest about the hard parts, for offering advice when I needed it, and for reminding me that I wasn’t alone. Sometimes, when you’re struggling to believe in yourself, you need other people to remind you that you can keep going.
This community helped me get through the hardest part of a journey I wasn’t sure I could finish. I honestly don’t know if I could have quit cannabis if it weren’t for this subreddit.
And to anyone who’s just starting out, I want you to know something.
You don’t have to believe you can make it another year. You don’t have to figure out how you’re going to make it through the rest of your life. You don’t even have to feel confident that quitting is going to work.
You just have to believe you can take one more step.
Then another.
And another.
The beginning can be brutal. You might struggle to sleep, struggle to eat, question whether it’s worth it, and convince yourself a hundred times that you can go back and do things differently. But keep going. It doesn’t stay that way forever.
Eventually, those steps add up to something you once thought was impossible. You look back and realize you’ve traveled farther than you ever imagined you could.
I’ve walked from Mexico to Canada twice. I never had to believe I could complete the entire journey on day one. I just had to believe I could keep walking.
And now I’ve learned that lesson in recovery, too.
I’m incredibly proud of this milestone. Not because a year is some magical number, but because of what that year represents: choosing myself, showing up for my life, and learning that I’m capable of letting go of something I once thought I couldn’t live without.
One step at a time. One day at a time. One year at a time.
To everyone here who helped me along the way, thank you. I mean that sincerely.
And to those of you at day one, day three, or day thirty: keep fighting. You don’t have to walk the whole trail today. Just take the next step.
Eventually, those steps become miles, the miles become hundreds, and before you know it, you’re standing somewhere you once thought you’d never reach.
One year down. Here’s to freedom, and to the miles still ahead. ❤️

Not click bait. I wish it was. Not a a charity case. Well, not completely. Lol A good 100k would fix all my issues right now, but only in a perfect world. Donations that would secure a fresh start would be amazing. I wish there were other options, but if this is going to ruin my life, might as well share my story before I unsubscribe from my life subscription. At least somebody else will know what the hell I went through from MY perspective and the thoughts in MY head. Whether they are rational is debatable because I know I'm manic. This may be quite a long one, so buckle in.

TRIGGER WARNING: Explicit Language, Extreme Substance Use and Subsequent Health Issues.

I am extremely smart. Not saying this in an egotistical way. Just literally on paper, I'm an academic. If all goes in my favor, I could be going to graduate school for addiction counseling very soon. I'm choosing this route due to my recent experience with drugs. By the time I get my degree, I'd have years of sobriety under my belt.

Now on to more current happenings. While cleaning out my closet, I found needles I purchased in college over 10 years ago at the bottom of a box. I was already on a binge of "Coca-Cola" and put 2 and 2 together and got twenty-freakin-two. After that experience, I couldn't stop. I isolated so bad and had no clue how to administer it this way to myself, so needless to say, I've messed myself up pretty bad. I OD'd many, many times, once in front of my partner when he was asleep. He woke up to me having convulsions. A very jarring way to find out that your partner is an IV user. So, I vowed to do it alone after that. So, I would OD all alone. There was "Fent" in it and as while having an OD, I somehow army crawled to some Narcan and dosed myself twice to see another day. With how suicidal I was feeling, I thought this was a sign from above that maybe I do want to live. I was knee deep in IV use for 2 months when I ended up going to the hospital to drain an abscess, only to discover I was in the beginning stages of sepsis and had an unsuccessful surgery to take out a needle tip that snapped off inside my arm. (It is still lodged in there somewhere. I'll probably be unalived by tetanus from the rust that will develop on it eventually). I had to be admitted for 3 days to get me out of sepsis safely before going home with oral antibiotics.

You think that would stop me... Nope. I'd do it whenever I could, whenever I was alone. I'd finish out my day and OD after work fairly often. Not too much to be unalived, but too much that I'd pass out and not remember the whole thing. All while hole punching my body and destroying my skin. I'm afraid to travel back home, I'm afraid to go to the store and run into anyone, I wear long sleeves on the hottest days. About a month and a half after my hospital visit, I got back deep into it and was doing it on a work day before work. I would never do that, but this day I did. I was late and disheveled. Went to the bathroom right after clock in and OD'd in the bathroom. While passing out someone found me and the ambulance was called...... the cops showed up. I was escorted out to the ambulance and was given the ultimatum: hospital or jail... I chose hospital. Found all these things wrong with my heart and need all these tests but now I have now accessible veins so they can't check my blood for certain things. I have been clean for over a week right now, almost 2, but now I have decisions to make.

Continue on this tragic track and poke myself to oblivion, even when I have no accessible veins to me. Ruin my reputation, let my whole family down and pile on so much debt. Lose custody, since I won't be able to control it if I'm doing it all the time. Overall, become a homeless junkie.

Get clean, start graduate school, use loans to stay afloat, stay under a rock until I graduate and pop out with a brand new career that I'll use to pay my student loans.

Seems simple enough, but having a partner, a child, bipolar 1 disorder, and borderline personality disorder makes this about 2837x harder. I relapse, I lose my partner. I use while in possession of my kid, I'll lose custody and have to go to rehab. If I don't get accepted to the college, my previous student loans from my bachelor's will kick in and I have to start paying that back with the imaginary money from my imaginary job. And the payment are freakin HIGH whether you work or not! It makes no sense. I worked my way up in my industry over many years and to be knocked down because of addiction has ruined any sense of self confidence, independence, and will power I had. Being in a small town where everyone knows everyone and what they've done, getting a different job that is nearly as lucrative as the job I had is not going to happen. Especially with this pending drug charge. I wish addiction wasn't a criminal charge. The only person I hurt was myself and I feel horrible about the person who found me and the trust I damaged with the company. But I need help. I need money, physical help and someone to physically be around. It's been proven time and time again that loneliness mixed with strong emotions causes relapse in my case. And I'm alone. Right now... for at least the next week. I don't want to hurt my partner anymore and it's not like I'm waiting for the next opportunity to relapse. I've been telling him to leave me, just in case it happens again, he won't be around. I do admit, I've been feeling horribly depressed and I shouldn't be alone right now, but I care about more about not hurting him in that way again. Will that create the perfect storm so that I can finally jump off that bridge? Yes. But that's not the whole point. I feel like I'm only bringing him down and I don't want to keep hurting him. I'd rather set him free, let him grieve this relationship and move on. If I can get past this addiction and stay clean, maybe we can revisit this relationship. But if he moves on, I can totally understand and I would be happy for him and grateful that we had this relationship in the first place. As far as custody? I'm good about not doing anything as long as my kid is here, so I'm not too worried. If I can't shake this, I'd probably have to go to rehab and hope it works. Hoping I wouldn't lose custody, but I really don't know.

To a regular person, this probably has easy solutions. But I've read this over and over again and I've been thinking about this over and over again and I see no clear answer or solution. All I can think is, if I get into this college and successfully complete it, try to stay clean, keep my partner (because he's amazing and supportive) and continue being the great mom that I know I am, then everything will be rainbows and butterflies. Buuuuut knowing how hard it is for me to overcome this addiction, I'm afraid I will relapse, lose my partner, which means losing my support system, which means snapping into either Mania or Depression and doing things that are really bad.

I don't know what to do. What would anyone else do?

If I don't get into this college, I'll have to start to pay back all student loans while jobless and be drowning in so much debt that I won't be able to breathe anyway so it'll be my only escape to just take my exit from this world.

If I do get into this school, it'll be stressful. If I relapse while going to school, I'll lose my partner, have the stress of school and co-parenting, and paying all bills with no job. It's just too much and with Bipolar and Borderline, it really doesn't take much for me to want to jump off a bridge. So I'm just putting it out there and seeing if an outside perspective can help me see something that I can't.

Thank you in advance and please don't bash me. I am very sensitive, but by all means, be real with me. Just try not to tear me down more than I'm already beating myself down. Any Questions? I'll answer them, but the college application deadline is in 7 days!!

Tl;dr

College application due in 7 days which determines whether I start owing a whole lot of money with no job all while struggling with Bipolar 1, Borderline Personality Disorder, IV addiction, co-parenting, and trying to keep my amazingly supportive partner. I want to break the stigma and find a lifeline, whether it's a monetary donation or a practical, workable solution. HELP! Any questions? Ask away.

This isn't clickbait. I honestly wish it were.

I'm not trying to make myself a charity case, although I could definitely use some help right now. In a perfect world, $100,000 would solve a lot of my immediate problems. Unfortunately, we don't live in a perfect world. Anything that could help me get a genuine fresh start would mean more than I can explain.

I've been going back and forth about sharing my story. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that people can look at the same situation and see completely different things. I've been stuck in my own head for so long that I think I need some outside perspectives.

This might be a long post, so bear with me. I'm going to be honest about where I am, how I got here, and why I'm struggling to see a way forward.

A little about me

I'm academically driven, and I've always believed I'm capable of doing something meaningful with my life. I have a bachelor's degree, years of professional experience, and a career I've worked hard to build.

If things work out, I could be starting graduate school for addiction counseling soon. My recent experiences have made me want to help other people who are struggling with substance use. I'd love to turn something that nearly destroyed my life into something that helps someone else rebuild theirs.

I know that won't happen overnight. I also know that wanting to help others means very little if I don't take care of myself first.

How things got to this point

More than ten years ago, while I was in college, I purchased some supplies that I recently rediscovered while cleaning out my closet. At the time, I was already struggling with cocaine use. I made a decision that changed the course of my life, and I became caught in a cycle of intravenous drug use that quickly spiraled out of control.

Over approximately two months, my substance use became increasingly dangerous. I experienced multiple overdoses, including one while my partner was asleep nearby. On another occasion, I experienced an overdose involving a substance that contained fentanyl. I was fortunate to survive.

Eventually, I was hospitalized with a serious infection that had progressed to the early stages of sepsis. Doctors also discovered that a piece of a needle had broken off inside my arm. It remains there, and I have ongoing concerns about the medical consequences of my drug use.

You would think that experience would have been enough to make me stop. Unfortunately, addiction doesn't always work that way.

I continued using in secret, even after everything that had happened. I was terrified of being seen, ashamed of what I was doing to myself, and increasingly isolated. I began hiding the physical evidence of my addiction and avoiding people because I didn't want anyone to know.

Eventually, I overdosed again at work. Emergency services were called, and I was taken to the hospital. That experience brought additional medical concerns to light, including problems involving my heart that require further evaluation.

It also created serious professional consequences, damaged trust, and left me facing a pending drug-related legal issue.

I am not sharing this to excuse my choices. I know my actions have consequences, and I take responsibility for the harm and fear my addiction has caused.

I'm sharing it because this is where my life is right now, and pretending otherwise isn't going to help me get better.

Where I am today

I've been clean for over a week, approaching two weeks. I know that's a short amount of time, but it's where I'm starting.

I have two very different visions of what my future could look like.

One involves continuing down the same path, losing more of myself to addiction, damaging my relationships, accumulating debt, and potentially losing the life I've spent years trying to build.

The other involves getting the help I need, staying clean, returning to school, rebuilding my career, and becoming someone who can eventually help others facing similar struggles.

When I look at it that way, the answer seems obvious. Of course I want the second future.

But getting there feels much more complicated than simply deciding to stop.

Why this is so difficult

I have a child, a partner I love, Bipolar I disorder, and borderline personality disorder. Managing all of that while trying to recover from addiction is overwhelming.

My partner has been incredibly supportive, and I love him deeply. I also know that my addiction has affected him and damaged his trust. I'm terrified of hurting him again.

Part of me thinks that if I distance myself from him, I can protect him from the possibility of another relapse. I don't want him to spend his life worrying about me or feeling responsible for keeping me alive and well.

At the same time, I know isolation is one of my biggest triggers. When I'm alone and overwhelmed by my emotions, I struggle much more. I need support, accountability, and people around me who can help me stay grounded.

That leaves me feeling caught between not wanting to hurt the people I love and not wanting to lose the very support that could help me recover.

I'm also a mother. My child deserves stability, safety, and a parent who is present. I want to protect my relationship with my child and continue being the good mother I know I can be.

I'm committed to keeping my child safe, but I recognize that I need a recovery plan that doesn't depend entirely on willpower or on whether someone else is available to help me.

The college dilemma

My graduate school application deadline is in seven days.

Getting accepted could give me a direction to work toward, a reason to keep moving forward, and a path toward a career that feels meaningful. I could use my education to build a more stable future and eventually help people who are struggling with addiction.

But school isn't a magic solution.

I have previous student loans from my bachelor's degree, and I'm worried about repayment obligations if I don't return to school. I don't currently have a clear financial plan that would allow me to manage those obligations while rebuilding my life.

I have spent years working my way up in my industry. Now, between my addiction, the consequences of what happened, and a pending legal issue, I'm afraid of how difficult it will be to regain my professional footing.

I live in a small town where people know one another, and I'm worried that my circumstances will follow me when I try to find work.

If I get into graduate school, I'll still have to manage the stress of studying, recovery, parenting, relationships, and paying my bills.

If I don't get accepted, I'm afraid I'll be left facing debt and financial uncertainty without a clear next step.

I've been looking at these possibilities over and over, trying to find the right answer. The more I think about them, the more trapped I feel.

My mental health makes that feeling especially difficult to manage. When I'm overwhelmed, my thoughts can become extreme, and I can struggle to see alternatives that might be obvious to someone looking at my situation from the outside.

I've been experiencing some frighteningly low moments, and I know I need more support than I'm currently getting. I don't want to lose my life to this. I want help finding a way through it.

What I actually need help with

I'm not expecting strangers on the internet to fix my life. I know I have work to do, and I know recovery requires consistent effort.

But I also know that I can't solve every part of this situation on my own.

I'm looking for practical suggestions, resources, and people who might understand what I'm going through.

Some of the things I'm trying to figure out include:

• Recovery: What treatment options, recovery programs, or support systems could help me stay clean, particularly when isolation and intense emotions are major triggers for me?

• Financial stability: Are there emergency assistance programs, recovery grants, scholarships, or other resources that could help someone rebuild financially after addiction?

• College: Are there ways to return to graduate school while managing existing student loans and limited income? Are there programs specifically for people pursuing addiction counseling or recovery-related careers?

• Employment: How do you rebuild a career after addiction, especially when you live in a small community and are dealing with legal consequences?

• Practical support: Are there organizations that help people coordinate treatment, housing, transportation, medical care, and other necessities while getting back on their feet?

• Accountability: What has actually helped people maintain sobriety when they have struggled with repeated relapses and mental health challenges?

I'm also open to legitimate financial assistance if anyone knows of resources that could help with immediate necessities while I work toward recovery. I'm not asking anyone to feel obligated to give me money. I'd be grateful for information about programs, organizations, or opportunities that could make a real difference.

I would love to find a way to stabilize my life without putting all the pressure on my partner or expecting my family to solve everything for me.

Why I'm sharing this publicly

Addiction has taken so much from me, but I don't want it to become the only thing that defines me.

I'm more than my worst decisions. I'm a mother, a partner, a college graduate, and someone who has worked hard to build a life. I still have goals. I still have things I want to accomplish. And I still believe I could do something meaningful with my experiences.

I also know that good intentions aren't enough. I need a realistic plan, professional support, and a way to address the financial and practical problems that are making recovery feel so overwhelming.

I'm trying to find that plan before things get worse.

If you've been through addiction and rebuilt your life, I'd genuinely appreciate hearing what worked for you. If you've returned to school after a major setback, I'd love to hear how you made it financially possible. And if you know of resources that could help someone in my position, please share them.

Please be honest with me. I can handle constructive criticism and realistic advice. I'm just asking that you remember there's a human being on the other side of this post who is already struggling and trying to find a way forward.

I don't need someone to tell me that everything will magically work out. I need help figuring out what to do next.

My college application deadline is in seven days, and I'm trying to make decisions that will give me the best possible chance at a future in which I can stay clean, be present for my child, rebuild my independence, and eventually help others who are facing the same battle.

If you've read this far, thank you. If you have questions, I'll do my best to answer them.

I'm here because I need perspective, practical solutions, and a reason to believe that my life can look different from the way it looks today.

26 years old here. I struggled with a bad stimulant addiction from 19-23 till I got my shit together. I went to therapy, no rehab because I thought it would be a waste of money for my parents. I wasn’t ready to do rehab. I’m also more about just trying to fix my own self. So after 23 I really became addicted to the gym, healthy eating etc. I have a very well payed occupation now that keeps me on my toes with responsibility, which I am. I know I’m not perfect, I still indulge very rarely in some stims, dissociatives every few months. It’s been a few months. Difference now is that it isn’t a daily thing. I think more about securing my stable job and growing in it. Which is what helps me stay sober for a long time. But when I’m not indulging in drugs for a while, I become very addicted to sex… which is not good at all. Most likely a dopamine hit more than anything. Now I’m just like my dad lol. I pick up a bottle of liquor and down it. Went to a doc visit for a checkup and talked to him about this. He said there’s meds for addiction? From y’all’s experience, what meds are there? Do I need meds? I’ve never been on medications.. I’m just tired of losing my healthy routine. Seriously I’m just tired of it. It’s insanely frustrating that I’m just a work horse, go back home sleep/drink and repeat.

I've known for a few years that I'm an addict, but I've only recently admitted to myself that I'm an alcoholic. For the past 8 weeks I've unexpectedly had to work away during the week while staying with a friend, so I only see my other half on the weekends. At first I was worried this would give me the opportunity to lapse onto harder stuff, so I gave myself too easy of a time when I started drinking every day and didn't use as I told myself it was the lesser of two evils.

I realised 3 weeks ago that alcohol is making me miserable. Every day I wake up with the intention of not drinking, and by 6pm the excuses start creeping in. My blood pressure has shot up, my fingers have started to swell so much that I can't get my rings off in the morning, and I'm ruminating about nonsense because I'm getting so anxious.

I can manage to not drink when I'm around my other half or friends. I just have no self-control when alone. On top of that, my housemate unexpectedly went out tonight and when I realised I was completely on my own I used after 6 months' clean time. I really am my own worst enemy.

Shepherd

The night before the doctor came, Elias Moss couldn't sleep.

Twenty-eight days since he got the last bottle. The first week he'd managed fine, stretching the supply the way he always did. By the second, the ache in his hip had sharpened and a restlessness had wormed under his skin. By the third, his hands shook when he reached for his Bible, when he lifted his cup, when he prayed.

He'd hidden it. Preached through it, voice steady even when his fingers trembled. His congregation was looking to him for comfort. 

He sat on his cot in the dark and pressed his palms against his knees. That didn't stop the tremors. Nothing did, except the bottle, and the bottle had been empty for days.

The doctor came through roughly every four weeks, sometimes five, depending on the circuit. Elias had learned the circuit.

Tomorrow he'd walk to LeJeune's Parlor House. He'd ask about the doctor's journey, let him see the limp in his step, call it age, or cold, or a bad night. And the doctor would open his bag and hand over the small brown bottle, and Elias would be whole again. The thought of it was the only thing holding him together.

The doctor arrived at mid-morning. Elias watched the buggy roll in from the mouth of his tent and made himself wait an hour, then two, hands clasped hard behind his back to keep them still.

He walked to LeJeune's Parlor House with his steps measured, the way he'd practiced.

"James," he said. "A long journey?"

The doctor looked up from his bag. "Elias." He never had to ask why Elias was there. “You look peaky.”

“It's the hip.”

The doctor nodded and drew out the small brown bottle. “The usual amount. A drop or two in water. No more.”

Elias's fingers closed around it. “Thank you, James.”

“One thing.” The doctor's hand stayed on the bag. “My next run is going to be a little longer.” He paused. “I won't be back for six weeks.”

Elias felt it land somewhere under his ribs. Six weeks. An extra week of stretching, of watching the level drop in the glass and dreading the day it wouldn't be there.

“Six weeks,” he said. His own voice sounded far off.

The doctor watched him. “You'll have enough. If you're careful.”

Elias had heard that before, every time the bottle changed hands. Be careful. Make it last.

“Yes,” he said. “I'll be careful.”

The doctor didn't look convinced, though he didn't say so. He nodded once and closed his bag. “Six weeks, then.”

Back in the tent, Elias measured the dose. A drop or two in water, no more. Drank. The trembling eased. The world went soft again, manageable.

He sat on the cot with his eyes closed. Six weeks. He'd survive it. He'd prayed for strength before. This was just another trial.

He looked at the bottle sitting on the crate that served as his table.

“Six weeks,” he told the empty tent. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want”

I drew this to describe it

I can't post on /cocaine so hoping someone can answer me here.

Is it dangerous to take Valium after a day using coke? I need to come down and calm down.

TL;DR About a year ago in college, I was going through some extremely rough mental health problems. I want to be clear: I have been diagnosed with C-PTSD, ADHD, generalized anxiety and major depressive disorder. They are very common disorders, but still difficult in their own ways.

During college I had an extremely debilitating episode from chronic stress that brought on suicidal thoughts I had never experienced before. Until then I had never experienced suicidal ideation. The stress came with uncontrollable racing thoughts that would not let up. It led to what I would call a soft suicide. I was deeply conflicted. I wanted to die and I wanted to live. I tried to get myself arrested as a cry for help. It didn't work.

In the final week of college I went on a long, uncontrollable binge. I was constantly blacking out, roaming the streets at night, bar hopping. I was not having a fun time and deep down I knew this was my way of trying to kill myself. On the final morning I woke up on a cardboard mat in the basement. A homeless man was sleeping on my sofa. Pills were scattered around, doors had been left open all night. That was the beginning of a really long year.

I went from drinking to abusing my prescription pills. For about half a year I enjoyed myself. I felt comfortable, didn't feel like I needed them as much, and was able to function while taking them daily. Then January of this year hit. I ended up in a situation I've been struggling to come out of. The addiction got worse once I started isolating. It was winter. I had just lost a job. I was with family, but it didn't ease the pain.

That's when the binging started. Sometimes I took it all in one night, but mostly I tried to pull myself back. Ever since, it has been a cycle: I get my monthly bottle for five days, stay up 60 to 70 hours three nights in a row, then crash when I run out. As I write this, I just finished that exact cycle.

I haven't mentioned writing yet. Writing means a lot to me. I have written for six straight years, constantly practicing different forms. Recently I have been focused on AP style because I want to learn it for personal experience. But here is the thing: I write when I am high, and when I am not I feel mentally exhausted. This problem didn't start until I started the pills.

I know it might seem like a stupid hobby, but it has helped me through past traumatic events for many years. It opened my mind to pattern recognition and deeper existential thoughts.

So my question isn't just where I get support. I would really appreciate advice on overcoming the hold addiction has on my writing. Or, phrased better, how do I take back my health and my writing?

Thank you to everyone who has stayed and read this long rant. Really, I appreciate it.

My mom refuses to sit with the uncomfortability that she hurt me for so long. When I tell her how she has hurt me and betrayed me, she says "Every time I bring it up makes her want it." But yet I feel the hurt so deeply and I don't know how to move on. Her saying that hurts me more because it's like telling me to drop it or she's going to use again.... I don't know what to do. I feel like I need to remove her from my life while I process and heal from this trauma. She's deeply hurt me and I can't just move on from that. It's never been resolved.

My friend takes aderall for adhd. I know he has used meth too in the past.

Is there a way to distinguish between the two, based on behavior?

​

I'm posting because this because I've been the victim of poorly administered recovery care services at multiple different centers throughout America.

I have been to rehab five separate times and rarely has it ever been conducive to my recovery.

The book Inside Rehab is an insightful read and confirmed all of my suspicions, describing many of the problems I & so many others encounter dealing with rehab facilities. I could go on and on (and on) about the shady practices they employ and how poorly managed these places are, and how it negatively impacted my recovery, which I've fought 11 years for and still fight for to this day. As they and so many others would put it, "I'M" the problem, not them, nor the fact that, say, as a gay chemsex addict, I'm roomed up with ANOTHER GAY CHEMSEX ADDICT that lives right here in town. Such as from that example alone, you might be surprised to find out their incompetence runs deep. Not to mention it wouldn't be the first time I was roomed up with the only other obviously gay dude in the whole place, just the two of us.

In another instance, after finally willing myself to seek out care and attend a recovery center and setting aside my bustling life in order to try and save it, I'm told by a "thirty day" inpatient facility a mere two weeks in -- like everyone else, to their surprise -- that insurance has dropped coverage. This was not unlike being forced out at 27 days at another one when I was told I had secured 30 (as the ONLY condition of mine in choosing that particular facility, which I was adamant about after what happened last time). Why was that of consequence to me? Because at 27 days, I was being forced out on a Friday, when I told staff I exclusively used on the weekends. But they appeared more concerned with trying to keep 60 beds with clients whose insurance could pay them, even though it wouldn't have incurred much more cost to keep me around. This, by the way, when it was already short staffed (the therapists and counselors of which agreed was poorly ran at the time that I was there). Take note of the many gowing reviews you see when researching some of these facilities, all of which are similarly terse. That might have to do with the fact that some of them try to persuade you to write one in front of staff upon exiting, one of whom seemed to threaten me had I planned to describe a negative experience associated with my stay at that same facility kicking me out during a time I was most vulnerable to relapse. Again, this forced departure they easily could have covered (as is made apparent in all of the other ways they accomodate an addict in order to get them to stay ... P.S. careful getting information on how things are run from call center staff, who are willing to tell you anything you want to hear).

You'll see many voicing justifiable complaints about a stay ranging from insufficient staff (not as many meetings with therapists as described, which some lucky "clients" had to switch half way through) to misrepresented amenities (an "exercise room" that consists of a single treadmill and ping pong table. Good luck getting that yoga programming if four or more "clients" aren't interested in participating!) and program variations (touching on different recovery support groups such as Refuge Recovery or Smart Recovery amounts to a few passing mentions, and an exercise here and there from a Smart Recovery handbook, amidst a sea of 12-step speak and references - it's main fall-back as seen in most facilities despite poor evidence showing its effectiveness). That's not even mentioning the surprise bills you'll receive following care, no matter how many corners you try to get covered and no matter how many meetings you hold with their financial officers. Because nothing equates to successfully managing your early recovery among the daily stressors of life, along with building fortitude, upon exiting the residential rehab, PHP, or IOP you attended, as bills amounting to thousands and thousands of dollars begin to seep in. Neato!

"We want you back, ___ !" I'm told down the line by the director of the same IOP & sober living facility I attended in California, after a regular staff member (whose only qualification is recovery time) has hounded me for weeks to "check in" (in order to get his kickback for recommending me to whatever facility in the country offers it once he's secured my stay). "You can leave if it doesn't work out!" they'll tell you, in order to help convince you to give it a go, if the blatant misrepresentation of what the facility looks like in the brochure they provide doesn't get you excited enough. That's only if they don't fight tooth & nail in order not to pay the return fare, or if you're not kicked out for relapsing and left to your own devices in a state you don't reside in. That's not even mentioning the dirty, mismanaged frat house you're likely to be put up in, sleeping in a room with three or four other addicts, in bunk beds.

And THAT is just the tip of the iceberg, speaking from personal experience.

I hope one day these shiesty fuckers get what's coming to them, and it's effects permeate throughout the industry and send out a signal to this "helpful" lot (Oh, they care alright ...They care so much that the moment you step through the door for an evaluation, you're in! Because you "need help", and they're the ones to give it. But if come to find out the IOP they offer doesn't fit your schedule and you ask for assistance in finding another in the area, they'll awkwardly decline, as that wouldn't directly benefit the company, which matters more than your ability to cope with a life threatening disease. This is after they hound you about being uncommitted if you don't rearrange your schedule despite, you know, committing to the IOP they offered before finding out they no longer did, during those hours that worked for you).

God I hope these places weren't just handed money from that recent settlement, where whoever was forced to pay for prescribing opioids like candy. That money is better spent elsewhere, apparently.

What have some of you been through?

Well, I’m a 32 year old business owner now but I have had a comfortable life up until 22 years old where my family went bankrupt and I had to start everything from 0.

I have a huge past with drugs where I think I am a functioning drug addict and I am high on something all the time.

I built a business but it’s stressful and I think I took on more responsibilities than what I can handle. I was an alcoholic to stop alcohol I started taking Lyrica which was a huge mistake.

Been taking Lyrica since January 2026 and tapered down from 1200 down to 300. Now I don’t have enough pills to finish my taper and I’m already feeling really really dark. I have enough to split up capsules and have a mg scale so I can do very very fast taper don’t have to go cold turkey but still.

I am newly married, been just over a year but this year has been very difficult about it. I feel like we are two completely different people now.

I was an alcoholic drinking up to a full bottle of black label 5-6x days a week and after a 40 day serious drinking bender I quit cold turkey and started taking Klonopin so I wouldn’t get seizures. Which worked by the way but now I take 1.5mg kpin a day and I cannot quit.

My relationship with alcohol completely changed and I don’t drink more than 4 glasses now, I find it boring.

I got kind of addicted to Dexedrine which I am prescribed for my ADHD; due to the AI craze I feel like I cannot stop.

My fixed costs per month are about 10k usd a month and after that I get left with zero. I have a shitton of debt to various places that I am constantly keeping track of.

Oh and I’m also on anabolic steroids and peptides and completely changed my physique from a 240 lbs fat guy to a 185 lean muscular guy since February. But I have a coach and also gotta workout at least 4x a week. And do the 12k steps and all

I don’t know how to stop. If I don’t take Dexedrine I cannot function. My dopamine is all over the place. Lyrica isn’t going well. Klonopin isn’t a good drug to come off of, been there done that but here we are. I also take Xanax to calm down from time to time as well.

On top of all this I spend about 8-10h 5x a week on the computer building stuff and spending thousands of dollars to automate my business and cut costs. I am kind of burnt out but I cannot stop

Wtf do I do? Also I’m an immigrant in the process of permanent residency so I cannot go to a rehab or hospital about drugs I have to do this all myself

Kinda lost I always managed it somehow throughout my life but with a partner it’s different my days are very unpredictable I may laugh and start crying 10 mins later etc

Anyone been in the same situation? I swear I typed this up myself and believe me I really don’t write anything. I hope this post will go up. I really need help.

I have been battling with myself for a few weeks of having really strong urges to use. I am a recovering addict, have 1391 days clean, however I haven't been to a 12-Step, support meetings or groups since I left Boise, Idaho back in March 2025. However have been regularly seeing my VA mental health team. Have an appt today, in matter of fact.

Just a little about me. I am a 43 M introvert who pretty much stays to himself. I live with roommates in a quiet house and it's nice compared to where I have been living in years past. I have been doing pretty well lately just finished a seasonal job at a fruit canning company that season ended a few days ago. Made good money plus the experience of a new job field that I have only worked once during Covid.

As time in my recovery has been progressing, I began to not even really think about urges or if an a memory came thoughts, I had to reverse my thinking and let that memory just pass by. To be honest, it's mostly about sexual gratification and/or getting off on the idea of being back on the drug for that sexual gratification. It wasn't a daily or even a thing I would constantly think about, just bad thinking for moments at a time, sometimes in a row. However, currently I see the edge of this fucking cliff and even though I am not at Fuck-It, my addict thinking and actions has been getting me closer and closer to a relapse, my first one since I got clean in Jan '23.

For the past weeks, a couple of days out of that and even hours out of those days, i would experience hypersexuality and watch meth porn and relatable content, get off multiple times and afterwards thought I would be done with it, however not the case, porn was just the starting point. That led me to download reddit and look up relatable content, just to feed the fuel. From there, I downloaded and posted on some adult dating apps and even going low as to search and post on Double list for the intent of see how far I can go, before I actually do end up using for sexual gain. What am I doing to myself?

I really don't want to go down that path again. It's not just an easy fix either, there are several connecting factors that are playing a role in this, maybe triggers even small ones that have been ignored. The bad thing is that I have been battling and keeping it locked inside that I don't reach out which is my default. Normally and before my current intense cravings, on a day-to-day basis, my mind would solely be on work, food and sleep. I have other thoughts and/or my mind is preoccupied go on about my day cause it's just life on life's terms, but this one's got me a little worried, ngl.

I have worked hard to kept my soberity going and I am proud of myself for years of staying clean, the love I have for me. The vulnerability that can let others know the struggle I am in, that there have been others in my shoes currently and in the past, have gone though or done the same shit, got though it with support and still here. I find comfort in that.

Started taking because of anxiety. Seemed all good until 1 month in, found myself wanting it every day. This went on for ~ 5 months, until I ran out and did somewhat of a taper off, cutting amount in half over last 3 days of supplies.
Day after I supplemented with Kratom powder, botanical blends and THC. The days I’ve had nothing, I’ve felt sluggish and depleted. I found that taking salt, creatine, vit c, magnesium and ashwaganda has seemed to feel somewhat calm. 1 week in to quitting and still have diarrhea and low appetite. Hearing this may take 3-4 weeks to feel normal again, so I’m counting my blessings that Im on the path to feeling well without substances. I was tempted today to take alcohol to take off the edge, but I do t want to cover one problem up with another, so I’m just using nicotine, which will also be tapering off over the next week. Sending love and strength to anyone going through quitting & recovery. 🧡

like i can see it happening in real time and still struggle to actually do something about it. wondering if that's just me being stubborn or if it's a common thing people deal with when trying to get sober.

I got r*ped in 2008. I experienced a very serious betrayal from a friend and abuse from my mom that led to a mental breakdown. I have CPTSD. I only just now started to process this trauma

I managed to dodge a lot of very serious drug addictions over the years. I got addicted to nicotine tho

A few days ago my state (PA) banned nicotine vaping products and I refuse to go back to cigarettes. I'm very scared to quit vaping

I feel like, by quitting nicotine, I'll have to somehow "be stronger than" all the people who've abused me over the years?

It just feels so impossible in my mind.

I can hear my mom saying "You're too weak to quit." She made me feel like I was weak for getting r*ped, like it was my fault.

I feel totally powerless... But the ironic thing is... Abusive people aren't strong at all! They don't process their own trauma, they push it onto other people. And they ENJOY IT when other people struggle.

And lots of times abusive people themselves are addicts. My mom is an addict. She tries to hide it though.

I guess maybe the thought process shouldn't be... "I have to be stronger than my abusers in order to quit nicotine."

It should be "I already am stronger than my abusers. I don't hurt others to make myself feel good. I'm human for succumbing to an addiction. Regardless of whether I recover from this addiction or not, I already am a strong person because I am kind."

The nicotine withdrawal will suck but challenging this stupid false belief is going to be very hard.