EP 3:16 Chemsex Recovery: 5 Stages of Grief
1 Jun 2026 · 15 min
In this solo episode of the Aftermath Podcast, host Dallas Bragg frames recovery from chemsex—a pattern of sexualized drug use common among men who have sex with men—as a grieving process. He explains that leaving chemsex means abandoning not just a substance but an entire identity, community, and coping mechanism, which triggers a grief response. Bragg maps this response onto Elisabeth Kübler‑Ross’s five stages of grief—Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance—describing each stage in detail, sharing personal anecdotes (e.g., eviction, confrontations with dealers, emotional turmoil), and highlighting the non‑linear nature of the journey. He emphasizes that each stage can be revisited, lingered in, or spiraled through, and offers practical encouragement: recognize which stage you’re in, allow the associated emotions, and use tools and plans that will be explored in future episodes. The episode includes trigger warnings, a call to subscribe and engage, and a link to a supplemental study guide for deeper work.
Chapters
Chemsex, sexualized drug use among men who have sex with men, typically involving methamphetamine, mephedrone, and GHB, among others. Chemsex misuse is a worldwide epidemic that needs attention, dialogue, and hope for those lost in it, which is the purpose of the Aftermath Podcast. Please note the views expressed by the host and guests on this podcast are not to be taken as medical advice, and the content around sex and drug use can be triggering. All right. Welcome back to the Aftermath Podcast and this solo episode. Don't forget there is a supplemental study guide that goes along with this episode, and the link is in the show notes. Please subscribe, like, and remember to rate the podcast so we can get the algorithm in the— to place it in the ears and eyes of those who need it. Say the same thing every week, but oh well. Okay. So listen, I do not care what anyone says, and I usually don't care about anyone says about anything, but when it comes to recovery, I don't care what anyone says. Recovery from Chemsex is an entirely different journey than with any other substance or process addiction, 'cause these men aren't just quitting a chemical. They're walking away from a community, a culture, and at times, a safe haven from the burden of societal norms right now, just being a gay man. When you leave chemsex behind, you are not leaving behind a vice. You are leaving behind an identity. A set of relationships, a way of moving through the world. And when you leave it behind, you are grieving. You were given a temporary relief from the shit that gay men have to live with on a daily basis. You were given a free ticket to fuck without shame. You were given a free ticket to pursue your kinks and fetishes. You were given a ticket. To have freedom from pain. And of course, we eventually realize that chemsex may provide relief from suffering, but it also becomes the cause of it. And that is when we realize that suffering, the suffering that it causes, outweighs that temporary relief that it provides. So we must walk away. That part of us Must die. The grief of this man that we were able to embody is very real. And I have found it helpful for men in recovery to compare their grieving process to the 5 stages of grief, first mapped out by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, for people facing death, physical death. And you may not move through these stages in order, You may spiral back and forth. You may camp out in one for days, weeks, months. That is how grief works. Okay? So let's go through these 5 stages. First one, denial. Denial is where most guys live before they even reach out to me or to anyone else. For me, I barely had time to be in denial because of my frequency of use. When you're slamming multiple times a day, your brain won't function at any kind of critical level. So, but I do think subconsciously I was denying the problem. 'Cause even when I was being evicted from my own home, I couldn't comprehend that it was actually happening. The sheriff put his arm around me, gently like escorted me out the door, and I stood on the street looking at my house in shock. Like I was officially unhoused. Denial for many guys can sound like this. Well, I can moderate. I can keep this going. I only take it for energy anyway. I can use it on the weekends. This is not a problem yet. My life is not falling apart yet. My dealer and my users buddies are my best friends. The sex is incredible. The community accepts me. This is where I belong. Denial is the belief that you can sustain the chemsex life indefinitely. Without the consequence. It is the voice that's minimizing the problems. It is the voice that compares your using to other guys who may be way worse, setting you up to look different, right? Like, this is not— denial is not stupidity. Denial is survival. Your brain is protecting you from a truth that you're not ready to face yet. But denial also has an expiration date, because at some point the evidence becomes undeniable. The G-outs that stack up, the money disappears, the loneliness deepens even in a room full of guys. The paranoia sets in, the body breaks down. Then you have a choice. Keep denying or finally admit that this is costing you something you cannot afford to lose. And that is when the grief begins. Now, stage 2, anger. So once you admit that there is a problem, the anger might come fast and it might come white hot, and anger needs a target. So during this stage, I held such unfounded contempt For those who cared for me the most. I was so bitter toward my mother and my sister who had kept me alive and safe during my youth when I had made so many misguided decisions. I was like a little child throwing a tantrum. Somebody took my candy away. And how I spent time dwelling on all the injustice in the world. Why couldn't I just enjoy myself? Why can't I just do this? You know, I just want to just have some kind of joy in my life. I've spent all my life in the closet and trying to be somebody different. And the one time I find something, you know, all this shit. Why can't I just live the life I want? Some other anger points that you may have, probably more reasonable. You're angry at your dealer for making it easy for you to use and relapse. You're angry at the guys who introduced you to this in the first place. You're angry at yourself for being so hungry for connection and validation and attention that you walked into it willingly. You are angry at the community for making it feel like home when it was actually quicksand. You are angry that you have to give up something that felt so good, so alive, and so real. You are angry that other guys get to keep using without consequences, you think, while you are here having to rebuild everything, which is bullshit. You are angry at recovery, at your coach, at your sponsor, at the process. It's asking you to grieve something beautiful and something terrible at the same time and asking you to do some hard work. The anger is righteous. Okay? It is justified. It is also the energy that can propel you forward, or it can keep you stuck. If you stay in anger without moving through it, You will use again just to punish everyone who hurt you, including yourself. The anger's telling you something here though. Something, something real was taken from you and it hurts and you're angry and that's okay. All right, so let's talk about bargaining. Bargaining is a negotiation between the life you had and the life you're building. It's like a buffering. I also call it buffering, bargaining buffering. I tried negotiating with Tina. But let me tell you, Tina will always win the negotiation. After some time being meth-free, I would convince myself that I was strong enough to use meth recreationally. Many milestones. I got to many milestones and relapsed because I thought I was strong enough. I thought I could negotiate. I tried to fit so many different variables in place. I'm going to use once a month. I'm only going to use on vacation. I'm only going to use with so-and-so. Nothing ever worked for me. How are you bargaining? It might sound like, if I just stay friends with these guys but don't use, I can keep the community. If I just see my dealer once to say goodbye, I can have closure. If I just go to one party sober, I can have sex and prove that I have control and I, I don't have to use. Tried that one. If I can be one of those guys who uses recreationally, who can handle it once in a while, I can maintain my relationships, my job, and my dignity. Bargaining is looking for every possible loophole, every exception, every way you might be different from the other guys who could not moderate. Bargaining is the compromise your mind offers you when you realize you can't have— you cannot have both the chemsex life and your freedom. You're looking for the middle ground, the way to keep your part— keep the parts you loved without paying the price. Listen, bargaining often looks also like a relapse. You meet up with an old friend, you tell yourself it's just to catch up. In the back of your mind, you know what's happening. Your body remembers, your nervous system recognizes this ritual, and suddenly you're using again. And you tell yourself, it's just this one time. I can stop whenever I want. Bargaining is the ghost of denial, but it's wearing a new mask. It is your grief trying to find a way to have it all. But there is no middle ground between freedom and the pull of meth. I'm telling you, the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can grieve fully. All right. Depression. Depression is where the bargaining stops working. You've tried every negotiation, every loophole, every compromise. You have finally accepted that you cannot have both of these worlds. And that acceptance feels like you're drowning. When I was spit out on the other side of my bargaining, which looked like sitting in a jail, I fell into despair. The magnitude of what I had done and the magnitude of the road before me sunk me into a very dark pit. I was frozen with fear and regret. But depression can lead you right back to use because it feels like meth is the only relief. But thank God I was being drug tested multiple times a week because that forced me to feel my feelings. Depression in grief is not clinical sadness. It is the weight of finality. It is is the moment you understand that those guys, that community, that version of yourself, that is gone and you will not get it back. The friendships that were built on shared using cannot exist in the same way sober most of the time. The dealer who was your best friend will not be your best friend when you stop buying most of the time. The sex, the rush, the feeling of being wanted and desired and seen in that specific way, that is not coming back in the same form. Depression is where you give yourself permission to grieve what was real and what was good and what was alive in that life, even though it was destroying you. Because it is okay to admit that you had a good time. That you will allow your— you— that will allow you to move to the next stage. This is the moment to practice allowing your emotions to fully express themselves. Feel the depression fully. Do not make yourself feel better. Feel the depression better, because in that depression is the final surrender. You wave that white flag, and in that surrender is the readiness to move on. Lastly, acceptance. Acceptance is not happiness about what you lost. It's not gratitude for the pain. Acceptance is the moment you stop fighting the reality of your new Life. It's calling you. Your new identity, your new life is pulling you forward. It is the moment you fully embody and emotionally connect with the 2.0 version of yourself. You have viscerally connected with your new identity and you have a clear idea of how you are going to show up after myth. And you start asking yourself, what would this version of me do right now? What would he be thinking? How would he spend his day, his time, his energy? Acceptance is when you have taken your vision and embraced it with every cell of your body. The chemsex identity is gone and you are still here. You're still alive. You're still worthy. The guys, the dealer, the community, the rush, that, that chapter has closed. And you do not have to keep one door, one foot in that doorway hoping that it opens again. Acceptance is when you can remember the good moments without needing to go back. You can acknowledge that you had real connection, real pleasure, real belonging in that life, and also know with absolute certainty That staying would have killed you. You are building something that lasts, and you are becoming somebody you actually want to be. All right, so you may see yourself in all 5 of these stages, and you may spiral between them back and forth, and you may camp out in one for longer than it feels comfortable for you. But that is the shape of real grief. The invitation here is very simple. Where are you showing up the most right now? Let's look at that. Which stage is asking for your attention right now? So in the podcasts ahead, we're going to break down each stage in depth, and you're gonna learn what it actually feels like to move through denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and finally acceptance. And you will get a real plan for processing each one, tools that work with what arises, and a path forward from wherever you are standing right this minute. And for now, Just notice, just witness where you live in this grief. That awareness is already the beginning of moving through it. All right, guys, I hope you enjoyed this. I hope this helps. Please gimme comments on YouTube and Spotify if you'd like, or DM me on any social media anywhere at any time. Love you. See you next week.
