A Note from Dallas
There's a moment I hear about again and again β and honestly, I've lived it too. You finish treatment. You feel cleaner, clearer, maybe even hopeful. You've done the work, sat in the groups, faced some hard truths about yourself. And then... you go home.
Home, where the apps are still on your phone. Home, where the silence feels louder than it ever did before. Home, where nothing has changed except you β and even that's not guaranteed yet.
This episode hit me differently. I had the pleasure of sitting down with Martijn, co-founder of the Recovery Collective in the Netherlands. He and his partner Jeroen have built something I believe in deeply: structured, community-rooted aftercare specifically designed for people coming out of chemsex addiction. Not therapy. Not treatment. What comes after.
Whether you're freshly out of a clinic, months into rebuilding, or still circling the decision to get help β there is something in this conversation for you. Because what Martijn and I kept coming back to is simple: you don't have to do this alone. And doing it alone is one of the most dangerous things you can try.
Let this guide be a companion to the episode. Work through it at your own pace. Come back to it. The questions aren't meant to be comfortable β they're meant to be honest.
Love you. Let's go. Dallas π
Section 1: The Cliff After Care β Understanding the Post-Treatment Gap
Martijn described it plainly: you leave the clinic and suddenly no one is taking care of you anymore. Your therapist, your structure, your daily check-ins β gone. And your life? Largely the same as when you left. Same apartment. Same apps on your phone. Same silence.
He shared that in the Netherlands, relapse rates within the first year after treatment run between 50 and 70 percent. For crystal meth specifically, those numbers are even harder. This isn't a character flaw β it's a systemic gap. People are being discharged without the scaffolding they need to actually rebuild.
The Recovery Collective was born out of that gap. Martijn and Jeroen started their coaching work after learning about five chemsex-related deaths in Amsterdam in a single winter. That number β in a small city, among people known to the community β was the catalyst. They stopped waiting for the system to fix itself and built something themselves.
What they offer is one-on-one coaching, specifically focused on today and tomorrow. Not your childhood. Not your trauma history β you've done that in therapy. Their work is: what does your life look like right now, and how do we make tomorrow a little more livable?
Section 2: Structure Is Not Boring β It's the Foundation
One of the most consistent patterns Martijn sees across all of his coaching clients is a problem with structure. And when you think about what chemsex looks like β day bleeding into night, plans dissolving, appointments broken, chaos normalized β it makes total sense.
He shared his own story: in early recovery, he started setting his alarm for 7:30 AM. He'd get up, go to the gym, shower, make lunch. By 1:30 in the afternoon, he'd already accomplished multiple things. He said something I want you to sit with: it gave him a purpose every single day.
I always say to guys: think about everything you did while you were using β and do the opposite. Dishonest? Be honest. Inconsistent? Be consistent. Chaotic? Build order. It sounds reductive, but it works. Your brain is literally in dopamine recovery, and small wins β making your bed, clearing your kitchen, showing up to the gym β register as real victories.
Martijn also shared a coaching hack I loved: one of his participants was struggling to clean his apartment. Martijn's advice? Invite someone over. Give yourself a deadline. External accountability creates action when internal motivation hasn't caught up yet.
Structure isn't about control for its own sake. It's about giving a recovering brain something to hold onto while the fog clears.
Section 3: Recovery Is a Collective Sport β Building Your People
This is the one that Martijn said clearly: the current recovery system is too focused on the individual. You are responsible for your own recovery. You are responsible for your own relapse. And while personal accountability matters, that framing misses something critical β we are not built to heal alone.
Martijn was lucky. He had a tight group of people around him who showed up during his recovery. He acknowledges openly that not everyone has that. But here's what I think is important: you can build it. It doesn't have to be pre-existing.
In the episode we talk about how hard it is to step into in-person spaces when you're carrying chemsex shame β in our own queer community, in recovery circles, anywhere. I've heard every version of this: I'm an introvert. I have ADHD. I just don't connect well in person. And those things may be true. But Martijn offered a reframe I want to pass along: you are not your problem. You are not your addiction. You're not your ADHD. You are you, and those are circumstances, not identity.
Baby steps are real steps. One conversation at the gym with a stranger. One walk with a sober group. One honest sentence to a new guitar teacher: "I'm in recovery and picking my life back up." That's enough to begin.
The Recovery Collective also partners with Queer and Sober, an organization offering low-key, genuinely fun sober activities β museum visits, walking tours, game nights. Community doesn't have to mean a meeting. It means people who know you, even a little, who aren't centered around use.
Section 4: You Are Not the Story β Releasing Limiting Beliefs
This is the section I could talk about for hours. Bobby and I covered some of this in our pitfalls series, and Martijn arrived at it from a completely different direction β and we still landed in the same place.
The stories we carry about ourselves become the lens through which we experience everything. I am an addict. I don't connect well with people. I'm not a texter. I have ADHD, so this is just hard for me. Some of those things have truth in them. But when they become identity β when they become the reason you don't try β they stop being honest and start being a cage.
Martijn said something I want you to sit with: give yourself the disclaimer, and then move forward. "Yes, this is hard for me. Now how do I take the next step?" You can hold two truths. I have ADHD and I'm building community. I carry shame and I'm still going to that hiking club. This is hard and I can do hard things.
The early period of recovery is one of the most fertile times to examine these beliefs β because you're already disrupting your patterns. The chaos is clearing. And in that clarity, you get to ask: what have I been telling myself is true? What have I let define me that isn't actually who I am?
Aftercare, as Martijn frames it, is where you take everything you learned in therapy and start practicing it in real life. Not talking about it. Doing it. Today and tomorrow.
Section 5: The Full Picture β Sexuality, Identity, and Queer Community Stress
Martijn made a point that I think doesn't get said enough: our issues are not coming from one thing. It's not only the drugs. It's not only the sex. It's the intersection β gay community stress, identity, shame, isolation, the particular way being queer in the world shapes how we experience ourselves and our relationships.
The Recovery Collective specifically addresses queer community stress as one of their coaching pillars. Not as a side note β as a core part of the work. Because if you're in recovery from chemsex and you're also navigating being gay or queer in spaces that don't fully see you, those things don't separate neatly. They're woven together.
They also hold roundtable conversations on topics like sober sex β which, if you've used chems to access sexuality for years, is not a small thing. Navigating intimacy without substances is one of the most vulnerable frontiers in chemsex recovery. It deserves to be spoken about directly, in community, without shame.
You are not just someone recovering from crystal meth. You are a whole person β with a sexuality, an identity, a community, a history, and a future. Recovery that only addresses the substance without addressing the fullness of who you are will always be incomplete.
Closing Reflection
Recovery isn't something you finish. It's something you practice β every day, in small ways, often imperfectly.
What Martijn and the Recovery Collective are building in the Netherlands is proof that the gap after treatment doesn't have to be a fall. It can be a bridge β if you have the right structure, the right people, and a willingness to be honest about what you actually need.
One percent progress is still progress. Making your bed is a win. Sending the text is a win. Showing up to the gym when everything in you says don't β that's a win. Your brain is healing. Your life is being rebuilt. And you don't have to do any of it alone.
If you're still in the thick of it β if you're reading this and haven't stopped yet β I want you to know this guide was written for you too. You don't have to be ready. You just have to be willing to keep reading, keep listening, keep asking questions. That's already something.
Love you. Keep going. Dallas π
π Reflective Questions
1. When you imagine leaving treatment (or when you remember leaving), what feels most frightening about returning to your daily life? What structure disappears that you'd been relying on?
2. What did your daily routine look like during your heaviest use? Now compare it to your routine today. What's different β and what's still missing?
3. Who in your life right now knows the real story β or at least a part of it? What would it take to let one more person in?
4. Finish this sentence: "I can't build a better life because I am ______." Now look at what you wrote. Is that a fact β or is it a story you've rehearsed so many times it feels like one?
5. How much of your chemsex use was connected to your sexuality β to accessing desire, feeling desirable, being part of a scene, or escaping shame around sex? What would it mean to separate those threads?
π Journal Prompts
1. Describe your life the week after you finished treatment β or the week after you last tried to stop using. What was present? What was absent? What did you reach for first?
2. What is one small habit you could commit to doing every morning for the next 30 days? What would it feel like to have done it consistently? Write about the version of you who has.
3. Think about the people you spent the most time with during your chemsex use. Now think about who you want to be surrounded by in one year. Write about the gap between those two groups and what getting from here to there might look like.
4. Write a list of five things you tell yourself about who you are β your limitations, your personality, your tendencies. Then, for each one, write: "And even so, I can ______." Notice what opens up.
5. Write about what sober intimacy looks, feels, or sounds like to you right now β even if it's just an idea, a fear, or a hope. Don't edit yourself. What's real for you here?
β Action Exercises
1. Map your current support structure. Write down every person, meeting, commitment, or routine that keeps you anchored right now. Circle the ones that existed before chemsex. Put a star next to any new ones you've built. Notice the gaps β that's where the work is.
2. Design your "1:30 PM framework." Starting from when you wake up, map out a morning routine that gets you to early afternoon having already accomplished something real. Keep it simple β alarm, movement, hygiene, a meal. Then do it for one week and report back to yourself in writing.
3. This week, identify one community touchpoint to explore β a sober group, a sports club, a class, a faith community, anything that gathers people around something other than use. You don't have to speak. You don't have to share your story. Just show up and observe. Then write one sentence about how it felt.
4. Choose one "I'm not a [blank]" belief you've been carrying. For one week, act as if it isn't true. You're not a morning person β set the alarm anyway. You're not someone who reaches out β send the text anyway. Document what happens. You're not trying to disprove the belief; you're just testing it.
5. Find one space β online or in person β designed specifically for queer people in recovery or navigating sobriety. It could be a meeting, a forum, an organization like Queer and Sober, or even a podcast community. Spend 30 minutes exploring it this week. You're not committing to anything β just looking.
P.S. You can learn more about the Recovery Collective and their work at their website. If you're in the Netherlands or know someone who is, their coaching program may be exactly what's needed after care. And if you're inspired to build something like this in your own community β reach out. This is a community effort.
P.P.S. More study guides, tools, and resources live at drdallasbragg.com. Click on Blog and subscribe to get each guide delivered to your inbox alongside every new episode. And if this one moved you, share it with someone who needs it.
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