A day with a recovering drug addict

A day with a recovering drug addict

Robin, not his real name, 17, was born in Sydney to an
Australian father and Javanese mother before moving to Jakarta
when he was 2. Since he was 12 years old, Robin's life has been
ruled by the murky world of drugs, leading him down a path of
near destruction. Currently a resident of the Yayasan Harapan
Permata Hati Kita rehabilitation center in Bogor, West Java, he
talks to The Jakarta Post's William Furney. (Robin was unwilling
to be photographed for the story.)

"There are five people in my room and we all get up at 6:30
a.m., take a shower, make our beds and get ready for the morning
meeting. Although my parents are Muslim, I don't have a religion
right now, but I do believe in God and I meditate.

During the meeting, we express our feelings and if we have a
problem with someone then we talk about it.

Afterward, we have breakfast which we cook ourselves, usually
rice, chicken and eggs, and get to chill out for half an hour. At
9:00 a.m., we do our job functions, taking care of the house and
cleaning it up.

As a junkie, I never cleaned my bed. I might have slept in the
one place for about a week, and I would have had a sandwich that
was left there for over a week. Cleanliness was not the most
important thing, so changing our behavior is part of the program.

There are sessions in the morning which talk about drugs, our
lives and anything we can relate to the disease of addiction so
we can better understand it.

I became involved in drugs through my older brother who was 18
at the time and offered me weed. I was 12 years old and my life
was all about laughing. When I met weed it was a good dessert on
the side and thought it would spice up my life.

My parents had no idea I was smoking dope. Addicts are great
manipulators; we know how to play that one life where we gotta
face our parents with red eyes and everything but can still act
like good people.

I hadn't been a smoker but when I took a hit it was sweet and
I thought it was good. It wasn't long after that I began to smoke
weed in public. I didn't care. If anyone asked what the smell was
I'd say it was drum tobacco.

When I was 14 years old, I took some ecstasy at a nightclub
and that was like a feeling I couldn't compare to. I felt so good
about myself, as though I was constantly in love; everything
seemed brighter and more entertaining.

I thought the perfect high was with ecstasy. Once I took a
heart and stayed in a room with my friends all day. Our senses
were heightened. Every drag of a cigarette seemed like another
high. Back then, one ecstasy pill was Rp 60,000 and we'd take as
many as we could afford to buy.

The longest time we continually took ecstasy was for three
weeks.

School was the last priority, even though I did go. For the
first semester in ninth grade I smoked weed heavily. In every
class, I'd have a rocket. It's a bottle and I'd go into the
bathroom, fill it up with water and take a couple of hits. I was
up in space, completely dazed out in class. The teachers had no
idea I was tripping.

In the second semester I'd met ecstasy and when I started
taking it in school I was so motivated, I was raising my hand
with every question.

I don't remember a day since I was 12 that I didn't take some
kind of drug.

I tried putaw (low-grade heroine) once -- five hits -- and was
out for two hours. It was too mellow for me. I took shabu-shabu
(crystal methamphetamine) in the summer of 1997. The shabu
dealers were so much nicer; they'd say 'come in, sit down and
smoke some'. You never say no to free drugs. Shabu makes you
talk; you become very social and turn into this really nice guy
that everyone can relate to.

When I started taking shabu, I met dealers that could get
hash. And hash is magnificent, man. When I went to Australia I
got hydrose, which is hash grown in a fish tank under ultraviolet
lights. My high was so much more intense. By this stage, I was
just looking for the best high I could get for my money.

I got money from stealing, from my parents, girlfriends and
other people. I never tried to take too much, but they could
afford it. I usually took about Rp 700,000 or a couple of hundred
dollars. One time my friends and I spent Rp 9 million over 45
days. I also dealt to get money, but I used more than I sold.

Now that I'm learning, I think shabu is a harder drug than
heroin. My brain is messed up on it. If you put shabu on a piece
of meat it burns right through, so imagine what it's doing inside
you.

I've never injected because I don't like needles with drugs. I
saw a lot of my friends suffer because of needles. But I did take
heroin; I'd lace it with weed, but not on a daily basis as I
thought you became really antisocial on it. By the end of 1999, I
was doing cocaine frequently.

My immune system got really low and they thought I had
mononucleosis. But I just lay down and smoked weed, thinking I'd
get better.

I knew I had a problem when I was 16. I was in eleventh grade
and I couldn't stop. I had no control over it. I couldn't go
through the day without using.

My friends were going to Narcotics Anonymous meetings and I
knew I had to get help. But I started using more heavily, double
doses.

In October last year, I ran away from home for four months. I
went to my friends' houses all over Jakarta. You can't find an
addict and my parents and the police didn't know where I was. I
had US$4,000 in my pocket and forgot about school.

I came back home for Idul Fitri. By then, I was really messed
up and needed help. My parents were so shocked.

I'd lived a hectic life; it wasn't fun. I'd seen things I
hadn't wanted to see. I'd thought about ending my life. Now I
wanted help. I wanted a new life as I just couldn't live this one
forever. I don't know how many nights I spent on the streets with
no money, thinking 'I come from a privileged household'.

About a year before, I'd asked my parents for help. I remember
sitting with them and telling them I was high. They said 'no
way ...' and went into denial. My mom just paid some cops to
follow me around. I offered them some weed one day. But this time
I really needed help and said 'take me to Bogor'.

When I checked in here I was still high but I haven't taken
anything since then -- and that's over four months now. At the
beginning it was fun, I was really positive. I thought I was
clean. But one day, I became really depressed and didn't wanna be
here any more. The struggles are more mental than physical. I
have a lot of problems to deal with. It sounds weird, right, but
I hate myself more than anyone else. Guilt is huge and I don't
want to look in the mirror. But every day I say it's progress,
not perfection, I'm after.

There are more sessions in the afternoons, and they basically
teach us how to live again. We're all misfits.

I've stolen a lot of cars and slept with a lot of older women
so I could rob their houses, usually jewelry, when they were
sleeping. I was always looking over my shoulder but I'd get high
to get over it. Those people were bastards anyway. They had
everything, nice houses, money and families. But they'd still go
out and sleep with a 17 year old.

In the afternoons, we can do anything we want (at the
rehabilitation center); play tennis, cook or read, just as long
as we don't go through the gates. There are more meetings in the
evenings and afterward I just chill out.

I'm thinking about either going back to school or traveling;
learning how to live out there without my parent's support. It's
something I don't know if I can do yet. The present is very hard
for me to concentrate on; I really have to work hard not to think
about it. I think about the past a lot and hope the future will
take care of itself.

I don't hate the last five years of my life; I hate what I was
doing, which was exciting at the time. I was on the edge.

I don't blame my brother for introducing me to drugs but I do
blame my parents -- I'm their creation and they brought me into a
dysfunctional family. I didn't learn any kind of morality from
them. I can see it in their eyes now that they feel guilty. It's
not just that they get upset -- upset is normal (for them).

I get to bed by 2:00 a.m. at the latest. As I'm drifting off I
try to see who I can say thanks to; who has helped me and who has
helped me drown. Most of the time I was left alone and there were
people there to help me. I can't forget that. I can't have
everyone's attention constantly, but just to have someone's
attention for a day, I think that's great."