Since the age of 14, I had to work to support myself and my family. I lived with them, but I never received the same love my younger siblings did. It always felt like my parents only kept me around for the money I brought in. Sometimes I even wondered, ‘Maybe I’m not their biological child.’

I started using drugs when I was 15. Back then, I was just a kid; my friends encouraged me to try it, and I thought it would simply help ease my sadness. And it did, at least for a while. After using, my head felt light, like being tipsy from beer, and I stopped thinking about the things that made me sad.”

But over time, I felt myself changing. I lost my appetite, sometimes skipping meals altogether. I couldn’t sleep; there were nights I stayed awake until morning and then went straight to work. I didn’t even realize how time was passing. Back then, I lost more than ten kilos.

When my parents found out I was using drugs, they looked down on me, always saying I was a junkie, and they even told the whole neighborhood. I was sensitive and emotional; I cried easily, and my head was filled with nothing but negative thoughts.

My father passed away early, leaving just my mother and me at home. She was devastated, but I was still too young to truly understand the pain of loss or the hardships we would have to face. All I felt was loneliness, like no one cared about me anymore. I followed my friends into drugs. My mother was shocked, but because she loved me, she never scolded or hit me.

For almost a year, my mother and I hardly had a real conversation. Whenever I came home, I would just lock myself in my room and avoid everyone, even when there were guests or relatives around. When my mother called me to eat, I wouldn’t come out; I waited until she had finished, then ate alone.

There were days when I felt so stuck that I thought about death more than once. I used to think that maybe if I died, I wouldn’t have to keep thinking, and my mother’s suffering would ease, too. I was scared, but back then, my mind was full of such thoughts.

My parents had seven children, and I was the fourth. My father and my older stepbrother were a bit slow, not as clear-headed as most people. When they took their medication and were sober, they went out to sell lottery tickets; on the days they weren’t, they just stayed home. Our whole family depended on those few lottery tickets, but some days there was income, some days there wasn’t. Since I was little, I would go along with my parents to sell lottery tickets. As I grew older, I started working on construction sites, moving from one job to the next.

When I was 13, I started using meth. My friends invited me to try it, and I just wanted to have fun. I didn’t know anything about it at that age. Every time I used it, I couldn’t sleep, but even when I went to work, I didn’t feel tired, and I felt free of constraints. But after a while, I realized something was wrong. I kept feeling like someone was watching me, or whispering in my ear…

My father and brother both have illnesses, and it scares me to think that one day I might end up like them. That’s why, whenever hundreds of noises echo in my head, I just want to silence them all, but I can’t.


For many young people, the Saving the Future – Building Up project has had the chance to accompany, stimulants like crystal meth became an escape from psychological wounds, suppressed emotions, or the fatigue and pressures of life. Yet all of this is only temporary relief. After those brief moments of forgetting, the old cycle pulls them back in, and the loop repeats itself. With each return, they move closer to the risk of eroding their health, straining relationships, and losing trust in themselves.

Mental health and substance use are closely linked. Conditions such as depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress disorder can drive individuals to use substances as a temporary way to cope with overwhelming emotions. In turn, substance use worsens mental health issues, triggering new disorders or exacerbating existing ones.

Mental health not only influences the decision to start or continue using substances, but also directly affects the ability to make safe choices, heightens the risk of HIV infection, and makes treatment adherence more challenging.
Based on the multidimensional association and impact between psychological factors and risk behaviors, the Saving the Future – Building Up project was implemented as a follow-up effort to control HIV among young people who use drugs in Vietnam. The project integrates HIV prevention, harm reduction for substance use, and mental health care as core components of its strategy, aiming for comprehensive and sustainable community-based interventions.

Community outreach workers, the ones who directly carry out the project’s interventions, are the first point of contact. They listen to stories that often feel hardest to share, offer counseling, screen signs of mental health concerns, and connect young people to health facilities so that they can receive timely support.

For many participants, a lingering sense of self-stigma is always present. Living with both substance use and mental health issues becomes a double burden that makes it hard for them to open up and be hesitant to receive support. That is why the project and its community outreach team place great emphasis on creating a private, safe, and respectful space where each young person can share at their own pace and in their own way.

Not everyone is ready to see a doctor right away. Some people choose to start with the smallest and most familiar things, like writing a few lines in a diary, listening to their favorite music, practicing breathing exercises, walking in the park, watching a lighthearted movie, or simply writing down all their worries and then finding ways to resolve them little by little. Some people feel more secure when talking to outreach workers remotely, over the phone, or on social media, as a way to “check in” on their feelings and stay connected.





From the very first open conversations, trust begins to take root. That trust becomes the foundation for clients to take more important steps on their path to recovery. Without understanding at the start, even the mention of seeing a doctor can stir up fear, shame, or the anxiety of being labeled ‘mentally ill.’ But with a trusted companion, they realize they are not alone. Outreach workers not only explain and encourage, but also walk alongside clients to each appointment, listen to their concerns, and support treatment compliance.

Thanks to that, community interventions no longer stop at listening and sharing, but open the door to specialized medical services, where clients can receive proper diagnosis, treatment, and continue their journey of recovery.
“I used to be afraid of going to the hospital, and of talking about substance use with strangers. But the staff were always there, encouraging me step by step, even accompanying me to the clinic, listening, and answering all my questions. Because of that, I now feel much more at ease.”

“I didn’t have any means of transportation, but they came all the way to my house to take me to the clinic and they did the same for every follow-up visit afterwards. They always encouraged me and never left me alone on this difficult journey.”

There were many times I wanted to give up, but they kept motivating me, reminding me to take my medication and keeping track of my follow-up visits.
“Many times, I wanted to give up, but they always encouraged me and reminded me to take my medication and keep track of follow-up visits. After a while, I regained my appetite, started sleeping more soundly, and even gained 5 kilograms since joining them.

And that’s when confidence began to grow: “The frequency of my substance use has dropped significantly. Now, I even believe I might be able to give it up completely.”

Through seemingly small connections, changes have taken place, giving motivation to those on their healing journey.

“You are not alone; there will always be people by your side,” one sister in the group told me. Those words gave me the belief that my life can truly change.




“I regret making my mother worry. But now that part is behind me. I’ve found a job near home, which not only gives me an income to support her, but also the chance to connect with others. I’ll try my best not to make my mother sad again.”

“When I come to the group, I can express my deepest thoughts without fear of being judged. There, I feel warmth and genuine care from everyone. I not only learned how to protect myself but also found comfort in knowing that I was truly being heard.”

Understanding is the starting point for change. As walls are broken down, hesitation and doubt give way to belief in resilience and, most importantly, to a commitment to change that comes from within.

By listening to the stories of people who use substances and setting aside prejudice, we open more doors to recovery. Here, mental health is not an afterthought, but the very foundation that requires long-term care through targeted and professional interventions. Only when the mind is touched and healed can safe behaviors be maintained, meaningful connections be nurtured, and the journey to recovery be truly sustainable.