My Drug Addiction May Have Saved My Life

Author’s note: I am not a physician or researcher. I am only sharing my experience, which can be read both as a cautionary tale as well as advocacy, but I am not recommending any illegal drug use. The day I began writing this piece, I came across a press release from Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) announcing that they have received $30M in donations to fund research in MDMA-Assisted Psychotherapy, a campaign to which I have donated and whose research I am so excited to see.

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My drug of choice was MDMA, a substance now emerging as a powerful healing agent for people who have suffered from trauma [1,2,3]. Of course, the treatments being studied introduce one or two single doses rather than taken almost daily over the span of four years alongside alcohol and other complimentary party favors. But in spite of the accouterment of self-destruction, healing did happen for me.

After the memory of violent childhood trauma resurfaced I turned away from the people I loved and towards a life under the influence of whatever substance I could get my hands on. I wasn’t much of a drinker but once I found ecstasy it was love at first melt. Living in a moment of cliche, I was a part of a bachelor party in a club in Las Vegas when a friend offered me a pill. Already spiraling from ruining my marriage and desperately trying to turn away from the memory replaying in my mind I swallowed the pill. I went from standing in a back corner nursing a rum and Diet Coke to absorbing the beat from the music into my being. The thick haze of despair dissipated to reveal that life really wasn’t that bad. It just depended on how you framed it. The epiphany lasted about as long as the high and as I sobered I sank deeper than where I was when I started. This didn’t dissuade me from wanting more, however. The conspicuously manufactured light was light nonetheless. The light I desperately needed.

My MDMA habit went from once a month insisting on being in a different city to being high the better part of the week and recovering the rest of it. It interfered with my performance at my rapidly growing startup by slowly eroding my confidence. MDMA delivers a truckload of serotonin and dopamine, hormones that regulate happiness and contentment. Taken in doses I imbibed (far too much) and a frequency at which I took them (far too often), I lost any sense of what feelings were real. The chemical cocktail prevented me from knowing and believing what made me happy. But I found moments of bliss. Moments that reminded me that life could be this way without the drug. I just needed to figure out how before it killed me.

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In the documentary Trip of Compassion (watch the trailer below), filmmakers follow a clinical trial of trauma survivors who take a dose of MDMA to process their trauma in a therapeutic setting. Their stories are heart-wrenching and triggering but these survivors find peace. They were able to relive their trauma at arm’s length. They leaned into the pain which allowed them to reframe what it would mean to their lives. When I took MDMA it was always with other people either in a club or a rave or at home in an intimate setting. I used it to help me connect with the people. When I fell in love with someone, even if the feelings were helped along by the drug I was able to be vulnerable and share what I had gone through. As I shared, I relived and was able to reframe what the experience was.

I’ve learned in therapy that dealing with trauma isn’t about deleting memories, it’s about redefining their meaning in order to integrate them. My new definition is that it that my past has informed who I am now which is a survivor that can help others. I’ve accepted the past and even who I became because of it which wasn’t the best human. I can now move forward not injured or broken but empowered, inspired, and knowing I can be compassionate at the highest level because I have lived it.

MDMA is not chemically addictive. My therapist said that if I felt that I needed to take that I could as long as I noted in my journal why. It was a brilliant ploy. It’s no longer rebellious if I’m allowed. Still, I did take more, I partied more, I lost myself more but when it was time to stop, I stopped. I was taking less and less but when I made the decision to stop for good, I did. It’s been over four years now and looking back I think that although MDMA isn’t chemically addictive I believe I was emotionally addicted. Had I undergone guided MDMA-assisted therapy I probably would have saved a lot of time, money, and hurt feelings, but I did end up in the same place. I live now with an abundance of gratitude for every moment of joy in my life. I help people by sharing and supporting both my local treatment center for childhood trauma (I describe my MDMA journey in a memoir with the proceeds directed to them) and donating to MDMA research like the campaign mentioned at the start of this post. It helped that the person I fell in love with under the influence, I fell in love with in real life.

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Watch the trailer for Trip of Compassion:

Trip of Compassion from Trip of Compassion on Vimeo.

Sources:

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Addiction, Masculinity, Suicide, and Recovery: An Interview With ‘Before I Leave You’ Author, Robert Imbeault

Rob Imbeault, author of “Before I Leave You: A Memoir on Suicide, Addiction, and Healing,” talks with Lisa M. Blacker about the story behind his book.