100th Episode and Season 2 Finale: 7 Guiding Practices for Chemsex Recovery

A Note from Dallas

One hundred episodes. When I started this podcast, I genuinely thought we'd run out of things to say. I could not have been more wrong.

What keeps me going — what has always kept me going — are the messages from men all over the world telling me they listened to the podcast in their hotel room to keep from using, or that they put it on while they were coming down just to feel a thread of hope, or that hearing these conversations made them feel, maybe for the first time, genuinely seen. That is everything to me. That is the whole point.

So today, to close out season two, I want to give you something practical. Something you can actually use. These are the seven guiding practices I believe can strengthen your chemsex recovery starting right now, today — whether you’re deep in your recovery journey or still sitting on the fence about whether change is even possible for you.

These aren’t about perfection. They’re not a program or a set of rules. They’re an invitation to begin showing up differently. I believe that if you weave even one of these into your daily life, something will shift.

Let’s go. 💚

Your chemsex experience came with a cost — and it’s important to know that cost. That awareness matters, especially early on. But if shame and cost-counting are the only tools in your recovery kit, you’re going to burn out. What creates long-term, sustainable change is beginning to ask: What gifts has this experience brought me?

Recovery is alchemy. The old definition of alchemy is turning lead into gold by removing impurities. In the spiritual sense, those impurities are the limiting thoughts and beliefs — the “I’m not enough,” the “I’m not wanted,” the “I’m too much” — that have been running your life. Chemsex didn’t create those beliefs. It just made them impossible to ignore anymore. And that’s the gift. Your use experience cracked you open enough that you can finally see what’s been underneath all along.

This one used to be “reclaim your power” in my early coaching. Then I realized something: most of us never had it in the first place. There’s nothing to reclaim. The practice is about stepping into power you’ve always had but never been taught to use.

Claiming your power means moving from victim to creator. And before anyone gets activated — this is not about blame. If you’ve experienced trauma, abuse, or circumstances completely outside your control, none of that is your fault. What we’re talking about is your response to life. That is yours. That is entirely, completely yours.

Here’s a simple example. Two men don’t get invited to a friend’s wedding. One thinks, they probably kept it to close family, I’ll reach out. The other spirals — starts cataloguing every interaction they’ve ever had with this person to prove that nobody really likes them. Same event. Entirely different realities created by the story each man chose to tell.

In chemsex, this matters enormously. Because the narrative you write about your use, your relapses, your worth, your future — that narrative is your recovery. If someone else is writing your story, you are not in your power.

The opposite of curiosity in recovery is condemnation. And condemnation — not relapse — is what actually sets men back.

When a craving shows up and you respond with I must be doing something wrong, I’m going to fail, I’m not strong enough — that’s condemnation. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. But when a craving shows up and you get genuinely curious about it — Interesting. Where is this coming from? What part of me is asking for something right now? — you’ve transformed the experience entirely. You become a compassionate observer of yourself rather than your own harshest critic.

This is where mindfulness becomes practical, not spiritual fluff. When you observe your emotions and cravings from a slight distance — feeling them fully, not bypassing them, but not being swept away by them either — you let them crest like a wave and pass. They are sensations. They are not your identity. A craving is not your craving. It is a sensation that a part of you is experiencing right now.

One more thing about the questions we ask ourselves: questions like Why does this keep happening to me? or Why can’t I get this right? sound like questions, but they’re not. They’re statements of hopelessness dressed up as questions. A truly curious question stays open. It doesn’t assume an answer. It trusts that the answer will come.

I suggest three core values. Not ten, not a mission statement — three. Values that become the compass you check everything against. Mine right now are compassion, unconditional love, and surrender. Every day I ask: Was I compassionate today? Did I withhold love from myself or anyone else based on conditions I invented? Did I surrender to what is, or did I try to force and control?

When you have your three values, you don’t have to wonder what your truth is in any given moment. You measure against them. It takes the guesswork out. It also makes it much harder to lie to yourself without noticing.

In my program, we do an exercise called the prophetic vision. The writing prompt is: I am becoming someone who… The vision is your North Star — the highest version of yourself that your chemsex crucible is forging.

Here’s the thing about commitment that most people miss: you have to hold two truths at the same time. I am perfectly enough exactly as I am right now. And: I am always growing into a better version of myself. Both are true. And you need both.

If you can only hold the second truth without the first, you’ll be stuck chasing a version of yourself that always feels just out of reach. You’ll use the word “becoming” as a reminder of how far you still have to go. That’s not commitment — that’s self-punishment with a hopeful label on it.

Real commitment means consistent daily action regardless of how you feel. Journaling when you don’t feel like it. Checking in with your support network on the hard days and the good ones. Sticking to your routine when your brain is telling you that today is the exception. Especially then. Because resistance usually means you are on the edge of a breakthrough — old patterns fighting for their survival.

When I came out at 36, there was this unspoken pressure — and I know I’m not alone in this — to make up for lost time. And with no real sense of my own value, there was no price of admission to get to me. I spread my energy everywhere, took in every energy offered to me, and that boundaryless hypersexuality became a natural on-ramp to the chemsex world.

What I didn’t understand then is that energy is currency. And you have a finite amount in a day.

In early recovery especially, a significant portion of your daily energy is already spent on not using. What’s left has to cover work, relationships, recovery meetings, therapy, coaching, and just existing. And then someone invites you to an after-party and you say yes because you feel guilty saying no, and you show up depleted, and when temptation arrives — and it will — you don’t have the bandwidth to hold your boundary.

Honoring your energy starts with honest, daily inventory. I ask my clients to rate their energy throughout the day — green, yellow, red, or a 1–5 scale — and learn to recognize when they’re approaching capacity. At that point you have two choices: say no to something (a boundary) or actively replenish. Not TikTok. Not Grindr. Not two hours of doom-scrolling. Those don’t restore — they deplete.

Think of your life as a garden. Boundaries aren’t walls — they’re fences with gates. You decide who gets through. You cultivate what grows inside. You protect what matters.

Two words I hear constantly in my work: dissociation and ADHD. Both often describe the same thing — a separation from the present moment, from the self, from what’s real. In chemsex, dissociation is part of the point. The substance creates distance from discomfort. And eventually, that disconnection becomes the default setting, long after the meth is gone.

Authentic connection starts with connection to yourself and to this moment. And for me, that means connecting to the perfected version of me — the man who has already walked through this, who is already living meth-free, who has already done the work. I borrow energy from him when I don’t have enough of my own. That’s my higher power. Not something outside me making decisions on my behalf, but the fullest version of me, calling me forward.

And when I give myself full credit or full responsibility — not blaming a higher power for my sobriety or blaming my addiction for my relapses — I begin to step into my actual humanity. I made choices. I make choices all day long. And those choices either reflect my past self or my future self.

How do you connect? A walk outside with bare feet on the grass. A candle flame. Music that moves something in you. Silence with your phone off. Journaling. A real conversation with someone who actually knows you. Start with five minutes. Start with one thing.

Seven practices might feel overwhelming. That’s okay. You don’t have to implement them all at once. Choose one. Work with it for a week. Let it become part of you before you add another.

What I want you to take away from this episode more than anything is certainty. Certainty that you have what it takes. Certainty that everything you’ve been through has been happening for you. Certainty that the best version of you — the man who is already free — is real, and he is calling you forward.

Breathe. Surrender. You are exactly where you need to be.

Love you all. Here’s to season three. 💚  — Dallas

•       What has your chemsex experience forced you to confront about yourself that you may have kept avoiding?

•       Where in your life are you currently letting someone or something else write your narrative?

•       Think about the last time you condemned yourself in your recovery. What would genuine curiosity have looked like in that moment?

•       Have you been sharing the full truth with the people supporting your recovery, or are old patterns of omission still showing up?

•       What is the difference between how you feel when you’re genuinely connected to yourself versus when you’re dissociated or on autopilot?

•       Write about a recent craving or difficult emotion as a scientist would — where did you feel it, what triggered it, what was it actually asking for?

•       What are three values that feel true to who you are becoming? What would your life look like if those values genuinely guided your daily decisions?

•       Complete this sentence and write a full page: I am becoming someone who… Write from fullness, not lack.

•       Describe your ideal day from an energy perspective. What does it protect? What boundaries would need to be in place?

•       Write a letter from your future, recovered self back to you today. What does he want you to know?

•       The Gift Inventory: Write down every gift you can identify from your chemsex experience so far. Make this your daily gratitude list for the next 90 days.

•       Narrative Interrupt: Today, when something difficult happens, pause before reacting. Ask: What meaning am I choosing here? Is there another way I could see this?

•       Curiosity Practice: The next time you notice a strong craving or emotion, say to yourself: Isn’t that interesting. Observe it for 60 seconds without trying to fix it.

•       Energy Check-In: Set three reminders on your phone today. Each time, rate your energy 1–5. At the end of the day, review the pattern and identify one thing that consistently drains you.

•       Five Minutes of Silence: Turn everything off. Sit in silence for five minutes with no agenda. At the end, ask yourself: What would my highest self do today? Then do that one thing.