This particular relapse lasted less than a week. It was the weekend, and I was at home. I fell asleep and passed out, only to wake up to a shattered glass and my face in the toilet. For some reason, my front door was wide open, and I had been sick. By that day, I hadn’t slept for several days. Suddenly, I started hearing police sirens, and I became convinced I was in trouble for using drugs. In a daze, I stepped on the broken glass, cutting my hands and feet, leaving blood everywhere—like a crime scene.
The sirens continued, and I thought I could see police officers and hear additional sirens. My paranoia escalated to the point where I believed my home was under surveillance by undercover officers and drug dogs. I was sure they were testing me, tapping lightly on my door to see if I would open it. This went on for what felt like hours. I was convinced they were knocking on my neighbors’ doors, asking about me, and even occupying nearby homes to get closer. Across the street, I saw officers staring at me, using cameras to zoom in on my every move.
In the midst of this chaos, I tried to clean up the blood, but it was coming so fast from my cuts that I couldn’t keep up. The more I tried, the worse it got. Panic set in, and I went into full self-destruct mode, getting rid of anything that could link me to drugs or my addiction. I was terrified, paranoid, and completely vulnerable. I felt utterly alone, sure that the police were closing in on me and that if I didn’t open the door, they would arrest me.
Desperation took over, and I began discarding drugs, trying to hide them in inventive ways, thinking this feeling would eventually pass. But it didn’t. I flushed everything I could down the toilet, even threw things out the window—including a bottle top for GHB. Despite my long-standing fear of the police, I finally surrendered. I called them and reported that I had been sexually assaulted. At that moment, that’s what I genuinely felt.
This is a post-event reflection to help me process what happened in a more logical way, something that might be helpful for me or the professionals I work with in the future.
