I Enjoy Drugs...And That's the Truth

The Honest Truth

If I’m being honest, I love how different substances make me feel.

I love a solid alcohol buzz. It’s relaxing. I’m social, loose, free.

I love marijuana, it makes me connect with trees like they’re my long-lost friends, unlocks creative portals I didn’t know existed, and drops me into spiritual realizations I can’t always access stone-cold sober.

I love cocaine. It’s a rush of adrenaline, I become Chatty Cathy on steroids, and I'm ready for anything!

I love mushrooms, just the right amount turns me into a giggling woodland creature who feels deeply connected to the universe.

And yes, I absolutely love LSD and MDMA at a music festival.

Sue me.

Why We Use Drugs

Substances feel good. That’s the whole point. And in moderation, I honestly don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with them.

So… why is it that sometimes, like now, I can manage my life and not struggle with substances, and other times I absolutely cannot?

Well, that’s the million-dollar question, right? And like anything related to substance abuse, the answer isn’t simple. First, I had some deep, ancient, crusty-ass maladaptive beliefs about myself, beliefs so old I didn’t even recognize them as “beliefs.” They were just… truth.

Or so I thought.

The problem with maladaptive thoughts is that they run silently in the background, like a toxic iPhone update you never actually agreed to. Then those thoughts shape our behavior, and before we know it, we’re unintentionally proving the negative belief right, one terrible decision at a time.

Those beliefs carved a void in me I didn’t know how to fill. I could feel the emptiness, but I didn’t know what to do with it, except numb it. And substances? They numbed it beautifully.

As the void grew, the need for relief grew louder, heavier, hungrier. I craved more. I chased more. I fell deeper.

The Other Side of the Void

But here’s the plot twist: on the other side of that void is peace, self-love, and acceptance. In that space, I don’t need relief from myself. I don’t crave in the same way. I don’t obsess about substances. I think about living, really living, and that feels a hell of a lot better than crashing into oblivion with a rolled-up dollar bill.

So am I “cured”? Am I permanently protected from tumbling down the stairway to hell in glittery boots again?

Absolutely not.

I have to take care of myself daily. I have to rest, meditate, move my body, eat like I care about myself, and not grind myself into dust. When I don’t? Guess what?!

I want to party.

My Biggest Trigger

My biggest trigger these days isn’t trauma or heartbreak, it’s physical exhaustion.

Burnout.

When I’m go-go-go and forget to check in with myself, I start craving that quick relief. And honestly, it's annoying as hell! You’d think after everything I’ve been through, my brain would be like, “Let’s never do drugs again!” But no. My brain is like, “Hear me out… blow?”

The good news? Today I can observe myself slipping. I can see the signs like warning lights on a dashboard. And when I notice it, I have the power to choose differently. Is it easy? Hell no. Do I nail it every time? Absolutely not. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Neither is recovery.

This Weekend’s Wake-Up Call

Take this weekend. I’ve been overworking, not meditating, not moving my body, and not resting. I could feel the physical stress creeping in like an unwanted guest with no social awareness. I knew the urge was right there under the surface, tapping its foot, waiting for the perfect moment.

Did I do any blow? No. Did I think about it? Oh, hell yes! Extensively.

Even with everything I have going for me. Even with all the tools and insight and self-awareness. Old habits die hard, and new ones take work.

A lot of it. Goddamnit.

The Point

But here’s the point, and the purpose of all this honesty:

Recovery isn’t about suddenly becoming someone who never wants to get high again. It’s about becoming someone who is connected with themself. Someone who can see their triggers clearly and choose what comes next with intention, not desperation.

Some days I choose peace. Some days I choose rest. Some days I choose the old thoughts before I catch myself.

But every day, I choose to keep showing up, flaws and all!