This is where it begins. A drink, a hit, a pill — often to soothe pain or seek belonging. Not all use becomes addiction, but this is where the seed is planted.

Substance use becomes familiar. It's no longer random; it’s a tool. For socializing, sleeping, calming, escaping. Patterns form. Dopamine starts adapting.

Consequences emerge. Maybe it's missed work, fights, risk-taking. You start to hide, to bargain, to justify. You notice — but keep going.

The substance becomes necessary to feel normal. Withdrawal creeps in. Tolerance rises. The nervous system is hijacked. The soul feels caged.

You don’t want it anymore — but it feels like it wants you. Life narrows. Shame deepens. But you are still here. The one watching is the one that can begin again.

Something shifts. You seek help. You see the cycle. You name it. And in naming it, you begin to reclaim your life. This is not the end — it’s the return.