Today we're talking about your team. How to build your chemsex recovery team, and why this might be the missing link.
Look. We cannot do this alone. You cannot do this alone.
We've heard it a billion times. The opposite of addiction is connection. Sharing the load, having other people reach in and hold you up and help you through it, that really is the way this works.
But here's what I see. Because it's chemsex, because it's meth or mephedrone or monkey dust or GHB or whatever it is for you, there's shame around it. And when there's shame around it, we're afraid to ask for help. We're afraid to tell our friends. Our family. Our partner.
So we don't ask.
And if you're still returning to use, if you're carrying all of this by yourself, if you feel like a piece of shit because you only have thirty consecutive meth-free days and you've decided you don't deserve people going out of their way for you, we have got to get rid of that.
We have to get past that powerlessness and step up and take control.
I want you to ask yourself right now, without really thinking about it.
Who is on my team?
If you had to pause there, this one is for you.
And if a team did come to mind, good. Now ask the harder question. Are they truly serving you in the best way possible? Are you utilizing them in the best way possible?
Most men can name people who love them. That is not the same thing. Loving is a feeling. A team is a function.
"I'm here if you need me."
It's a beautiful sentiment. Here's my phone number, I'm here if you need me. But that is not a role. There's no job attached to it. No commitment attached to it. No specificity attached to it. Nobody knows what to do with it, including you and probably including them.
And at eleven o'clock on a Friday night, when your chest is tight and you're shaking and the phone is in your hand, "I'm here if you need me" is about as good as a fart in the wind.
You already run a business
If you're in chemsex recovery, you are already running an operation. And if you're not thinking about it that way yet, I want you to start. You are the founder. You are the entrepreneur.
Here's what I've noticed about the men who really make this work.
They're looking at the calendar. They're making projections. They're planning ahead. Nothing gets ahead of them. They're structuring their days. They're staying ahead of the open hours that could lead to using. They're deciding on Monday what Saturday night is going to look like.
That's the entrepreneurial attitude this takes. You're running an operation, and the cost of a bad quarter could be your life.
So overlay that onto your recovery.
If you're the founder, then the people around you aren't well-wishers saying I'm here if you need me. These people are your staff. And staff get hired. Trained. Reviewed. And sometimes let go.
I know how that sounds. My friends aren't staff. My family isn't staff. The men in the rooms I go to aren't staff. It's cold to talk about your best friend like an employee.
Stay with me on this. It's too important.
Write the job description
Chemsex by its very nature is specific. It has its own architecture.
Sex and the drug get wired into the same pathway. Shame lives in your body. It is a very different thing to say I do meth than it is to say I have a drinking problem. And that reward loop, that dopamine stacked in your brain, reopens faster than anybody believes until it's happening to them.
Somebody who has never been near this, who has no idea beyond what they saw on Breaking Bad, cannot know what this is like.
So you have to teach them. And you have to be specific with them.
These are my danger zones. Not "sometimes I struggle, can you be there for me." No. Friday after nine. Payday. When Sunday and Monday are off together. When I travel. That week in November when Mom died. Sunday afternoons. The week after a big presentation at work, because I know I dive after that.
Be specific.
This is how you contact me. Call me. Do not text me. And tell them why. Texting lets me perform. I can get away with it in a text. My voice gives me away. My face gives me away.
These are the questions you have to ask me. Not "hey, you doing okay?" A yes or no question is not going to cut it in chemsex recovery.
If somebody asks how you're doing, you're going to say fine. Every time. And if your brain is already in that reward loop, if euphoric recall has started, you are not going to stop and explain yourself, because your brain is actively trying to convince you to use. You will be vague if you're allowed to be vague.
A vague question gets a vague answer, and then you both feel like you did something. He checked in on me. Okay, I checked in on him, he's fine, back to my show.
Give them questions you can't surf through.
Have you had any thoughts of using today?
Have you been on Grindr, or trying to find a way onto Grindr?
Have you been emotionally dysregulated today?
Have you been unusually up? Unusually down?
Whatever question hits the root of a telltale sign that you're in trouble. Make it individual to you.
Now you either tell them the truth, or you actively lie to a real human voice. And most men can't do that second one.
And once these people are really on your team, they're going to know when something's off with you. It's the same as knowing when the boss is in a mood. There's an intuitive pattern. When you're supporting somebody who's using, you pick up on it. They're not answering the way they usually answer. Not at the speed they usually answer.
We read between the lines. We know.
You usually think you've got one over on us. Set this up so that you can't.
Decide what level two is before you need it
So now you get to say it out loud. Yes, I had a fleeting thought earlier. Based on that, we need to take this to level two.
Decide beforehand what that means. If I tell you I had a fleeting thought, then this happens.
Level two is not a pep talk. It is not an extra phone call.
Level two is somebody coming to take your phone. Level two is somebody coming to stay with you. Level two is something extreme enough to snap you out of the sleepwalking and the autopilot. A video check-in instead of a call. Doubled frequency for the rest of the week.
Build it while you're feeling good, before you need it.
Because when euphoric recall hits, you ain't calling nobody. In fact you're probably not answering anybody either.
Your brain will not hand you that exit. It has other plans and it is very good at them.
So the communication has to already be in motion. You need a defined system, like a fire evacuation route posted on the wall. And you run the drills. Team member one, if this is what you're seeing, then this is what happens.
You need a system that's already moving. Not one you have to build mid-flight.
Then train them
Nobody starts a job knowing how to do it.
Educate them on chemsex if they don't know it. Have them listen to some podcasts. Assign them some reading, some research. Bring them to a meeting with you. Introduce them to other men who have recovered if you can.
Teach them what meth actually does to the reward system, and teach them your patterns. Because a person who doesn't understand the mechanism will keep handing you willpower advice.
And willpower advice from someone who loves you is its own kind of emptiness. They'll go to bed at nine, not knowing your danger zone starts at eleven.
People don't mind staying up a little later. They don't mind doing a little extra. They really do want to see you succeed. And when they understand the nuances of chemsex, they will show up differently.
Teach them what a trigger looks like. They need to know what it looks like from the outside.
Think of it like the first ninety days of a new hire. They're on probation. You hire them, you train them, and month one is on-the-job learning. By month three they should know your patterns. They should know what's happening with you. They should be running check-ins without you prompting and staying on top of things.
Because you trained them that way.
If they're not doing the job, that doesn't make them a bad person. It makes them unprepared and uneducated, and that part is on you.
Hire for the role, not for the love
You're casting a team. We have all hired somebody we didn't particularly like who was excellent at their job.
Every person needs a role. Interview them. You are in charge here.
Some people adore you and want what's best for you and are soft with you, and they will enable you. Wrong hire. There's a place for them somewhere, just not on the front line.
Cast by strength. This one is a night owl, so I know what his job is. This one doesn't care where you are or what time it is, she will push and push until you answer.
And you want the nosy ones. The intrusive ones. I've said this before and I'll say it again: very often, no offense, this is a straight woman. One of your straight girlfriends. She is going to make fucking sure you do what you're supposed to do, but you have to let her. You have to train her and set the expectation.
You want somebody who will invade your privacy and not apologize for it.
She's not worried about being a buzzkill. She's not worried about being a cock block. A lot of gay men in your life will be worried about exactly that, and they'll back off.
And cross-train. No operation lets one person be the only one who can do a critical job. If your night owl is traveling, who's the replacement?
I'm serious about this. There should never be a gap in duties, because you will see that gap and you will run with it.
About your privacy
In early chemsex recovery, you give up some of your privacy, and you do it on purpose.
For some men that means somebody with view-only access to your bank account. For some it means parental controls, somebody who can see everything you're doing on your phone.
If this sounds extreme to you, I want to ask you something.
How has what you've been doing been working for you?
I know how it feels. I know it sounds scary to some of you. But this is scaffolding. You put it up to build the structure, and you take it down as time goes on. You step down from it.
This is not the rest of your life. This is what's necessary for this portion of your life.
Give them performance reviews
This is the part that really separates the men who build a team that lasts.
You review your team the way a supervisor would. Here's how you're doing. Here's what you've been missing. Here's what I need more of. Here's what I need less of. Here's your rating.
Because you will let things go.
You'll see that employee not doing their job, and because of the way your brain has been restructured by meth, you're more apt to let it slide and let that person be. You'll notice somebody calling and just chit-chatting instead of running the check-in.
No. Don't let that go.
You have to get out of the mindset that you're asking too much, that you're a burden, that you don't want to hurt their feelings. It is not worth it. This is too detrimental to your life for you to be worried about hurting somebody's feelings.
And I'm telling you, more often than not, you won't. They want to do more. They want to see you well.
People who really love you will go further than you ever imagined. Further than you even asked for. But you have to make it clear that you are the one steering this ship.
Somebody flaking on check-ins needs to be reprimanded or let go. They are teaching your brain that the system has holes in it. And if your brain learns there's a hole in the system, it will take it.
You can do all of this with grace. You don't have to be an asshole about it. If the role isn't the right fit: I'm grateful for you. I know you're trying. This just isn't what I need right now, I need something else.
Because if an underperforming employee was costing you your business, you'd act.
Would you let a friendship get in the way when their failure is costing you your life?
You are the leader here
It does not matter how many times you have relapsed.
It does not matter how long you've been using, or how hard, or how many consecutive meth-free days you have.
It does not matter.
Your authority over your own recovery is your birthright. Your power here is not something you earn. It comes with the job. It is your responsibility.
So don't be meek about it. Don't be mousy about it. Don't soften the ask, or apologize for the ask, or decide in advance that it's too much before somebody's even had the chance to say yes.
There is too much at stake for you to be polite about this.
Graceful, yes. Merciful, yes. Polite, no.
And if you're asking one person for more than they can carry, adjust their job description. Give more to somebody who wants more to do. Hire somebody new. Or thank them and excuse them from the team.
You're not asking for help.
You're staffing an operation. And you're the one in charge of it.
At the end of the day, what happens to that bottom line, which is your recovery, is entirely up to you.
One more thing. Remember consistency, proactivity, and certainty. This whole piece is the proactivity part. But consistency matters just as much, because some of your team will start to fade a little. They'll get shaky. They need you, as the leader, to round them up and remind them and say hey, I need you here.
There is nothing wrong with that.
So. Who is on your team?
What are their roles? Do they know exactly what they're supposed to do, and when they're supposed to do it?
Or are they just somebody who says I'm there if you need me?
A list of phone numbers in your phone does no fucking good in chemsex recovery, because you are not going to call them once you've crossed that threshold into euphoric recall.
You have to be proactive. You have to plan ahead. And you have to be as specific as possible.
This is what it takes.
I want to hear from you on this one. Does it resonate? Is it bullshit? Do you have a team, and what have you done with it?
Tell me in the comments, or DM me, or send me a nice little letter. I don't care how. I'd just love to hear from you.
Hope this helps.
Love,
Dallas
THIS WEEK'S EXERCISE: WRITE ONE JOB DESCRIPTION
Give this forty-five minutes, and do it while you're feeling good. Not while you're struggling.
Pick one person. Not the whole team yet. One.
Write it out on a single page:
Role: what this person is actually for
My danger zones: the specific days, times, situations
How you contact me: call or text, and what happens if I don't pick up
How often: exactly when the check-ins happen
The questions you have to ask me: four or five, specific enough that I can't surf through them
Level one: what you do with a normal answer
Level two: what you do when I tell you I've had a thought of using. Make this one uncomfortable.
Your training: the episodes, the reading, the meeting I'm bringing you to
Your backup: who covers when you're unavailable
Then send it to them and ask them to accept the role. Out loud, in a real conversation.
Put a date on the calendar thirty days out and do the review.
JOURNAL PROMPTS
Write down everyone you'd call your support. Now write the actual job each one is doing. Who has a title but no role?
Pick one person and write their whole job description. Then look at how much of it they've never once been told.
Name a time you noticed somebody wasn't showing up for you and you said nothing. What were you protecting?
Which part of this made you flinch? The bank account, the phone, the intrusive check-ins. Sit with it, then answer honestly how your current approach has been working.
If you ran your recovery the way you'd run something you loved and believed in, what would you stop tolerating this week?
Responses