Anthony spent 20 years of his life on the chemsex scene. Now a Wellbeing Recovery Worker at Turning Point, he shares how his experience turned from party fun to sex work and psychosis, and how he managed to get his life back on track.
“It started off because I really struggled with my sexuality. I struggled with my gender, and me being mixed race. Using drugs was just my way of not having to deal with all of that.”
For Anthony, it started with partying in Soho. “It was just what I thought was normal - drinking, cocaine, ecstasy, and then it progressively got worse.”
Initially, he would party and then go home with someone he met in the club. But rapidly Anthony found himself in situations that were less about socialising, and more about getting a fix.
From clubbing to private parties
“I kind of graduated from SOHO and was getting in deeper with going out clubbing in Vauxhall. That was when it became more ‘chemsex’, because you're not in a bar in Soho with loads of other LGBTQ people that would then go home and go to work, in Vauxhall it was very much, three days of clubbing and then you went on to these parties that everybody would be engaging in sex and drugs were being taken."
“Then they started to close down clubs on the Vauxhall strip, and that’s when everybody started thinking, let’s just have parties at my house, eliminate the going out part.”
Chemsex is a growing scene, particularly in the LGBTQ+ community, that involves combining drugs and sex. Those participating are often exposed to scenarios at ‘chillouts’ where they can be vulnerable, feel peer pressure, or be incapable of refusing unwanted advances. GHB, methodrone and crystal meth are the three main drugs associated with chemsex, and those engaging in chemsex are often exposed to harder drugs, or methods of using.
“I remember speaking to one guy in one of these chillouts, and he was 21. He had come down from Scotland and had only been in London for a year. I could see he was going under on the G (becoming incapacitated after taking GHB). Then I remember leaving that party, but I came back at a later time. I walked back in and he was unconscious, and these guys were having sex with him. He wasn't awake.”
From private parties, to dating apps
Anthony’s own situation started to escalate quickly, affecting his work and private life, when he began hosting his own parties, then using dating apps such as Grindr to connect to people just for chemsex. (Read our guide to chemsex shorthands)
“I would just be sitting on the apps, getting these guys round, hoping that they had their drugs to come with. I would have these guys around and they would, at some point go, because they’ve got work tomorrow. With me, that was never the case. So even when these guys would go, I would then carry on on my own.”
From dating apps to sex work
Anthony started injecting crystal meth, and couldn’t keep track of how much he would use. Though he held many jobs throughout the time he was using, eventually he lost the ability to pay for the crystal meth and so he turned to sex work to fund his drug use.
“It’s normalised that you have these conversations with people. They say, ‘Yeah, I've got the drug.’ And then that person then wants to know what you're going to be up for when you arrive at that house. So basically, you're organising exchanging sex for drugs. But that transaction isn’t always set out in words.”
From sex work to psychosis
As Anthony got deeper and deeper into drug use, he started to experience psychosis that took the form of hallucinations and led to extreme paranoia. To this day he struggles to separate the reality of what happened in that time from the psychosis.
“I think about the way I was using, I was literally just using my body as a pincushion, even when I was waking up on the floor with needles hanging out in my arm and going straight back and using again, it was really chaotic and dangerous - that doesn't scare me. But what happened with the psychosis frightened the life out of me.”
“I was hearing voices. I was sensing feelings on my body, physical feelings. I was smelling certain smells like gas. And so I was adamant that people were out to harm me. It got to the point where I had to barricade myself in my house. I used to get tubs and tubs of paint and pour it all over the windows because in my head, if somebody was coming in to get me, all over the floor, I would have evidence. I had a beautiful flat and I ruined it. In those dark times I thought if I carried on using it was going to bring me out of the psychosis. But obviously, no, it was just making it worse.”
From psychosis to recovery
Anthony had sought help multiple times over the years that he was using, but he admits he wasn’t truly committed to stopping. It wasn’t until his psychosis got really bad that he decided that he didn’t want to ever use again. He came out of rehab for the last time and got straight in touch with Turning Point.
“My key worker at the time, who's now my manager, he got me straight onto a peer mentoring course. I started that and I got a sense of purpose, getting up in the morning, going to the course when it was the busy rush hour. It gave me a sense of I'm normal, and I'm back to being an adult.”
As well as having structure in his life, Anthony attributes his recovery to filling his time with activities for him and finding friends who are in recovery that he can talk to openly about his experiences.
Drug free for over two years now, Anthony works with Antidote, a joint initiative between Turning Point and the London Friend charity, providing LGBTQ+ specific support for those in the chemsex scene.
Antidote provides peer support, sober social activities, relapse prevention support, counselling and group work among its services. Find out more about Antidote here.