Behind the Smokescreen: The Yearning of Young People Struggling with Drugs
By Garmylo Pdang
“I’m tired of everything, it’s so difficult for you to understand unless you are in my place.”
“It’s useless with all these rehabs and treatments, and medications, though they help, we need a support system that is ready to incorporate us back to the society, a system that would help make us feel like one of its own, who have gone astray, but ready to return home.”
“Every day I woke up, I could see the disappointment in my mother’s eyes. It is not anger or regret, it is something worse. It is that of grief, like she is mourning the death of someone who is still alive.”
“I miss the person I used to be. I was a person who had a lot of big dreams, but all I dream about now is wondering how to fix myself. I want to stop. I do, but I fear the emptiness and pain ahead.”
“You see, sometimes I wonder if anyone would believe me, including you, if I say that I want to change. I have heard people taunting some of the guys who have stopped, and I have seen how some of the guys are being avoided and rejected by their own people, not by their own family members, but by their own relatives and friends, it fears me that I will be rejected to.”
These are some of the statements shared by many young people who are struggling with drugs. They are not just personal admissions; they are echoes of a collective pain that many don’t tale about it until it’s too late.
So, what leads a young person down this path? The answers are not always loud, superficial, and dramatic. Sometimes, it started with something as simple and as dangerous as the need to belong. One of the persons I had a conversation with told me that he started it because all his other friends were taking it, and he did not want to be the odd one out. Peer pressure is one of the most common entry points into substance use, be it drugs, alcohol, or cannabis. In a generation that grows up navigating social validation online and offline, the fear of missing out is real, and the fear of exclusion from the group is real. This pushes one to tag along and join the fun, and as it happens, the ‘just try it once’ becomes a habit and the habit becomes a dependency.
Curiosity is another reason why many youngsters struggling with substance use disorder fall into the trap. Some of the youngsters I interacted with shared that curiosity led them to take their first pill, just to see what it felt like. However, for so many, the story began with pain, a broken family, physical abuse, academic failure, heartbreak, or simply the emptiness that nobody noticed. These youngsters did not wake up one early morning and decide to become dependent. It crept in quietly, and then it became a daily routine and finally an identity they never asked for. Unemployment, especially post-college, has quietly become a breeding ground for restlessness and frustration. With degrees in hand and no doors opening, many youths find themselves defeated and stuck in a limbo of dreams, and often felt betrayed and their self-worth eroded. And one of them said something which struck a chord, ‘When you have nowhere to go or to be, it is very easy to fall into places you should not be.’
The unseen weight of loneliness is another reason many fall into substance abuse. Family pressures, unresolved trauma, and the absence of emotional connection can drive young minds to find comfort in temporary highs. The substance (drug) becomes a companion, a substitute for someone to have a conversation with. Added to the availability of the substance, the lack of open dialogue around mental health, the neglect of it, and the lingering stigma around seeking help are other reasons that pull young lives under. Many don’t realise they have crossed the line until they are drowned in it. Substance abuse, in many ways, is not the disease; it is the symptom of a deeper void, the unmet psychological needs of belonging, expression, stability, purpose, and identity confusion. Many young people turned to drugs to escape psychological distress, grief, anxiety or depression. The use of the drugs becomes a coping mechanism for pain they may not know how to face otherwise. What is concerning is the dismissal of this behaviour as ‘a phase’ or harshly condemned as ‘parts of growing up’ rather than understood as signs of deeper pain.
The most heartbreaking part is many want to stop, to give it up, and to get back into the normal functioning of life. They regret falling into the trap, and their regrets are deeply human. They regret hurting their families, wasting their time on drugs, and drifting away from themselves. They regret the lies, the secrets, the friends they have lost, the pains they have caused. They carry with them deep feelings of shame and guilt, and this guilt can trap them in a cycle of self-punishment and relapse, and yet, so many of them still carry hope that one day they can overcome their dependence on the substance. But recovery is not easy. Some do have the support of family; parents who stay up crying and praying, siblings who learn how to forgive, and relatives who are ready to help spend lakhs of rupees for their son’s or daughter’s rehabilitation. Others are not so lucky. They came from broken homes and toxic environments, even society turns their back on them, labelling them and leaving them fight their battles on their own.
While efforts are being made, such as increased awareness programs in schools and colleges, amplified social media campaigns, the increase in the number of rehab centres, and the slowly growing social support systems, there is still much to be done. Accessibility and affordability remain challenges. There’s a stigma attached to being individuals struggling with substance abuse, there’s a stigma attached to therapy, and there is a stigma of saying ‘Yes, I’m struggling with substance, I need help.’ As a community, there is a need to shift the approach from punishment to prevention, from stigma to support. Mental health education must begin in schools. Open conversations must take place at homes, awareness programs must be held all around, peer support programs need to be created in colleges, creatives intervention through art, music and theatre need to be more organised and encouraged, and dialogues need to be more objective catering to the needs and concerns of those struggling with substance abuse.
The road ahead is not hopeless, but it does demand more compassion and more spaces where pain is not punished but understood, as one of the parents rightly said, ‘We need to listen, not judge, these are not bad kids, they are just hurting in silence, they are our sons and daughters.’ Healing starts when someone listens without judgment. When someone says, ‘You’re not alone in this,’ These young people don’t need pity. They need understanding. They need a community that stops asking, ‘What is wrong with you?’ and starts asking, ‘What happened to you?’. All the above statements are not just confessions; they are cries for understanding, for empathy, and for help that often go unheard. They are voices of a generation that is struggling to make sense of pain, loneliness, and identity in a world that rarely pauses to listen. Behind each word is a longing to be seen, not as a problem and statistic, but as a person. A cry for dignity and redemption, a cry for acceptance, for a second chance. What they truly need is empathy and people who would be part of the system to help them rewrite their stories, not just as survivors of addiction but as people who dared to begin again.
