Youth drug culture on rise, parents are to blame

Hao Han (pseudonym) still finds it difficult to make eye contact with people.

Every once in a while, a demure smile creases his still youthful features, but any time he catches another person's gaze, he immediately glances away, as if to continue looking would be unbearable.

Hao sits on top of a hardened mattress, one of two such beds in the cramped little room at the Beijing Drug Rehabilitation Center in Daxing district which for the past year he has called home. He is dressed in a black t-shirt, and a tattoo of a serpent-like creature slithers up his right arm.

"I regret everything," Hao says.

Hao has struggled with drug addiction ever since he dropped out of middle school as a 13-year-old delinquent. While countless numbers of young people are finishing their studies, hustling for jobs, or trying to overcome the obstacles and pressures attendant to making one's way in the world, Hao is simply trying to win the struggle against himself. Now 25, he is trying to beat his addiction once and for all.

"I'm determined to leave my past life of drug addiction behind. Even if it's hard, I really think I can make it happen this time," Hao says.

Hao is not the only youth to find himself in this situation.

Pinned to a notice-board in one of the rehabilitation center's offices is a list of the center's patients. Around 40 percent of the patients whose names on the list are under 30 years old. For many of them, their descent into drug addiction, like Hao, began when they were still teenagers.

Zheng Yu, a deputy team leader at the rehabilitation center, said that many of those who start using drugs from a young age come from troubled families.

"Most teenagers who start using drugs come from families that haven't paid enough attention to them," said Zheng. "Usually, when their drug problem comes out into the open, the teenager has already been abusing drugs for several years."

According to a report that appeared in the Beijing Times in June this year, the number of recreational drug-users in Beijing has increased 10 percent annually in recent years.

Tale of woe

Hao was taken aback when he saw the karaoke-bar table scattered with ketamine and MDMA (commonly known as "ecstasy" in recreational use).

He had just dropped out of middle school after struggling to complete his first year. His relationship with his family had been strained for some time, but it had now deteriorated to the point that he felt it was untenable to keep living with them. So Hao moved out, and tried to make it on his own.

He passed his days in the company of drifters and stragglers, who like him, had abandoned their homes without a plan or a dime. Unable to find legitimate employment due to his age, lack of experience, and the social stigma of being a runaway, he scraped by doing odd jobs for disreputable people.

On the night that Hao found himself in the karaoke-bar, with a bounty of drugs in front of him, he was not sure what to do. Eventually, he succumbed to peer pressure, and had the first hit in his life.

"I didn't like it at all. I felt awful after taking the drugs," said Hao.

Ketamine is known to produce dream-like, dissociative hallucinations in users. In its medical application, it is most commonly used by veterinarians as an anesthetic.

MDMA, as its recreational name ecstasy suggests, is an amphetamine known for inducing euphoria, though the sensations Hao experienced that night were far from euphoric.

"I threw up," Hao recalls. "I swore that I would never touch drugs again."

It was an empty promise. Severed from his family and any sort of support structure, Hao's life unraveled, and as it did, he began to take more and more drugs.

"I was going through a tough period in my life. I felt as if I'd lost everything," said Hao. "I was empty and sad, so I tried to find some sort of comfort by taking drugs."

During the worst of his addiction, Hao was spending 9,000 yuan ($1,454) every month on drugs. He supported his habit by doing legally dubious menial labour, from collecting money for local gangs to working as an enforcer at gambling dens.

Hao was still living in Fujian, the same city as his family, and his father would visit him on occasion. But it wasn't until 2012 that they realized something wasn't quite right.

"I had lost so much weight. For a long time, I had weighed 116 kilograms, but by then my weight had dropped to 80 kilograms. My father noticed," said Hao. His family intervened, forcing him to return home.

It was the first time he had been home in three years.

"I was stupid and irresponsible. It's only now that I can understand my family's point of view."

Hao looks at the ground.

"I really miss them," he said, his voice cracking.