Themes: Recreational drug use, drug overdose
Paul, 38, shares the story of how he ended up in hospital following mistaking his water bottle with an identical bottle that contained pure G during a hook-up with someone he met on Grindr.
I had been to a show in central London on a Saturday night, and afterward, I decided to open up Grindr since I was already in town and feeling in the mood to maybe meet up with someone. Pretty quickly, I got a message from this guy I’d always fancied but hadn’t had much luck with before. He was like, "Hey, want to come over?" I thought, why not? So, I said I’d be over in about an hour.
I swung by my place to get ready, then went to his. As soon as I got there, I realized this wasn’t the vibe I was expecting. It looked like a bit of a drug den. The guy was an escort, though I didn’t know that until I got there. The room was set up for one thing—sex. The lighting was dim, porn was playing on this massive screen, and there were glass cabinets filled with crystal meth pipes, bongs, and all kinds of sex toys. It was pretty clear this guy had been up for days, and I immediately thought, “I really don’t want to be here.”
I was lying there in my underwear with an IV in my arm, and when I came to, I just yanked it out, which made blood start pouring everywhere
At that time, I was trying to avoid drugs, so I definitely didn’t want to get caught up in anything heavy. But he could tell I wasn’t high, and he offered me some crystal meth, which I turned down. Then he asked if I wanted some GHB (G). I was already feeling pretty uncomfortable, but my people-pleasing side kicked in, and I didn’t want to seem rude, so I said, “Okay, I’ll have a little bit of G.”
He gave me some, and after a while, I started to feel the effects. Then I went to the bathroom, came back, and grabbed what I thought was my bottle of water. But right next to it was another identical bottle—turns out it was filled with G. I must’ve already been feeling the G because I wasn’t paying close attention and took a big gulp.
At first, I didn’t even realize it, but something felt off immediately. There was a weird aftertaste, and I said to him, “I think I just drank G.” He panicked and said, “Quick, go throw up!” So I ran to the bathroom and tried to make myself sick. I think I managed to vomit, but within a couple of minutes, I must’ve collapsed.
I thought about my family, especially my mom who passed away, and how horrified she would be if she knew I almost died from a drug overdose.
The next thing I remember is waking up with paramedics around me—two of them, plus the guy and his flatmate. I was lying there in my underwear with an IV in my arm, and when I came to, I just yanked it out, which made blood start pouring everywhere. It was all over my white underwear—super dramatic. I felt so disoriented and ran to the bathroom to throw up again, but I couldn’t stand properly. I kept falling over while everyone was trying to calm me down.
The paramedics took me outside, still in my underwear, and into the ambulance. I was protesting, saying, “I’m fine, I don’t need to go to the hospital!” but they insisted. I remember lying there on the stretcher, half crying, half panicking, thinking, “This can’t be happening to me. I’m responsible, I work in healthcare!” I was just overwhelmed with shame, thinking about what would happen if people found out.
When we got to the hospital, I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. The nurses were asking me questions, like, “Do you know where you are? What’s your name? What day is it?” and I was struggling to answer. I couldn’t remember my own name at first, or even what year it was. That’s when I realized how serious the situation was.
There’s still a lot of shame attached to it, but I’m trying to see it as a second chance
The main feeling I had was just pure sadness. I thought about my family, especially my mom who passed away, and how horrified she would be if she knew I almost died from a drug overdose. It just didn’t feel like me. This wasn’t how I saw myself going out, and I couldn’t believe it had happened.
I stayed in the hospital for about eight hours until they were sure I was okay. The place was full of people yelling and fighting, and I just felt so out of place. When I was finally discharged, they let me walk home, which was probably the worst "walk of shame" I’ve ever experienced. I was terrified to tell anyone what had happened. I didn’t want any of my friends to know. The shame was overwhelming.
In the days after, I kept thinking about how lucky I was to have survived. It was scary to think I could’ve died just because I grabbed the wrong bottle. I’ve learned a few things from the experience. First, I’ll never let someone else handle my G again, and if I’m ever in a situation where I feel uncomfortable, I’ll have the confidence to just leave. No sex is worth risking your life for, especially when things feel sketchy.
There’s still a lot of shame attached to it, but I’m trying to see it as a second chance. It really put things into perspective—how close I came to losing everything I’ve been working towards, and how fragile it all is.
I’m still processing the whole thing, but I’m grateful I got through it. Hopefully, my story helps someone else avoid a similar situation.
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