I want to share my story because it shows how stigma can follow a person into places where they should feel safe, including a hospital emergency department. I have lived with methamphetamine addiction since I was 14 years old. For many years, addiction affected my health, my choices, and my relationships. I carry regret for the harm caused along the way, especially to myself and to the people I love. But my story is not only about addiction. It is also about recovery, courage, and learning that my life is worth speaking up for.
I am now two years and two months free from alcohol and methamphetamine. Over the last nine years, I have been in recovery three times. Each time taught me something important about myself: recovery is not about being perfect; it is about continuing to choose health, even when the journey is hard.
During my journey, I nearly died from pericarditis, an infection around the heart, which developed after an abscess related to intravenous methamphetamine use. At the time, I was drug-free and in treatment at a rehabilitation centre. I was trying to get healthy again. I knew my body, and when I started having chest pain, I knew something was seriously wrong.
I went to the emergency department because I felt like I was having a heart attack. I told the nurse I had chest pain, that I had an infected abscess, that my GP had already prescribed antibiotics, and that I had a long history of intravenous methamphetamine addiction. After I shared this, I felt judged. I waited for hours, and when I finally spoke to hospital staff, I was told to go home and keep taking the antibiotics. It felt as though my history of addiction was being seen before my symptoms were. When I said something was wrong with my heart, I was told it was “just an abscess” from using meth or “dirty needles.”
In that moment, I had to speak up for myself. I said I was not leaving until someone checked my heart. That was not easy. When people judge you because of drug use, it can make you feel small, ashamed, or unworthy of care. But I knew I deserved to be listened to. I knew my life mattered.
Later that night, an older nurse who was near the end of her shift treated me with kindness and respect. She listened. She insisted that I have an ECG. After the test, four cardiologists came in and asked how long I had been having chest pain. I was told the infection was trying to get into my heart and that, without treatment, I could have died. That nurse saw me as a person, not as a label. Her care helped save my life.
This experience taught me that stigma and discrimination can be dangerous. When people make assumptions about someone because of alcohol or other drug use, they may miss what is really happening. They may dismiss pain, fear, and serious health concerns. Stigma can stop people from asking for help, and it can stop services from giving the right care at the right time.
I also learned something powerful: I do not have to carry other people’s judgements as my truth. My past does not make me less deserving of respect, safety, or healthcare. Speaking up for myself was an act of survival, but it was also an act of self-worth. It reminded me that my voice matters, even when others do not want to hear it.
There are people out there who care about our success and our health. The nurse who listened to me showed me that one respectful person can make a life-changing difference. That is why AODCCC stigma action and awareness training for hospital staff and community services is so important. People affected by alcohol and other drug use need care that is respectful, informed, and free from judgement. We need to be seen as whole people, with strengths, hopes, families, futures, and the right to health.
My message to others is this: do not let stigma silence you. If something feels wrong, speak up. If you are judged, remember that judgement does not define you. Wellness and health is possible, healing is possible, and there are people who will stand beside you and believe in your right to live a healthy life.