Marlon: What do you feel when you walk along the Riviera in Zurich today?

Susanne: It brings up many memories from my drug days. The place was anything but an idyllic stroll – drug addicts, syringes on the benches. I sometimes slept in the phone booth at Bellevue back then. Today, I’m proud that I survived and escaped the drugs.

So, do you walk along there with a positive feeling?

Yes, even though it still hurts. The drugs came with the despair I felt as a young person. I was searching for acceptance and belonging. It was a time of searching and inner emptiness, which seemed to only be filled by drugs. Today, it’s just a memory, and that’s a good thing.

How did you develop a drug addiction?

I grew up in a difficult environment – my father was aggressive, had an alcohol problem, and my mother was overwhelmed. As a child, I had no stable role model who could provide support. At 15, I was placed in a group home, where I came into contact with drugs – as an escape, as a search for belonging. We sniffed glue and smoked joints. Drugs gave me the feeling that I could somehow survive. They offered me a break from reality. Additionally, I had two older siblings, both of whom also became addicted to drugs.

You were born in 1965 and grew up in Zurich. Can you tell us more about the wild 80s?

The era was defined by drugs – many of us wanted to break free from the hamster wheel of everyday life, to rebel. Punk, drugs, experimenting. It was a way of opposing the system. The authorities were constantly trying to push us out of the urban landscape. There was no acceptance for those who didn’t fit the mold. And many of us – myself included – just wanted to belong somewhere. And that’s how my "drug career" began.

What happened after your time in the group home?

After the group home, things quickly went downhill. I ended up in an anthroposophical family in Vevey, but it didn’t work out. I just wanted to be accepted, but I always felt like an outsider. Then came the street – and my first contact with heroin. I just wanted to come down from an LSD bad trip and injected heroin for the first time with friends on the Riviera. At first, I thought I had everything under control, but quickly realized that wasn’t the case. It pulled me deeper and deeper.

How did it go from there?

It was a vicious circle. I kept ending up in prison for drug possession or trafficking, went to psychiatric clinics, and developed bulimia. I prostituted myself to make money. At 18, I ended up in pretrial detention again and realized that everything was just going around in circles. It was like a hamster wheel: arrest, release, relapse. Over and over again. I wanted to break free and, at the urging of my supportive juvenile lawyer, I decided to go to France to detox. I needed a radical break.

Did your juvenile lawyer help you go to France?

Yes, he believed in me when everyone else had given up. He personally drove me there. The detox at the "Le Patriarche" facility in France was my turning point.

What was special about the "Le Patriarche" facility?

At first, I wanted to run away. But over time, I realized I wasn’t alone. "Le Patriarche" was an institution with 40 people. We took care of each other but were supervised by doctors and staff. Everyone there had a past with drugs, so they understood me. I learned to take responsibility and to be there for others. I also supported others through cold detox – just like I had experienced it. It was much more than a job, it was my life. After three years, I moved into management and helped open new detox centers.

What role did HIV play during that time?

In the 1980s, many people died from AIDS. In France, we worked with the Pasteur Institute to get regularly tested. My HIV status was negative for a long time, even though my partner was living with HIV. Of course, there were concerns, but I accepted the risk because I was in love.

After your time in France, you moved to Spain with your partner.

After "Le Patriarche," we moved to Valencia. In the beginning, it was hard – I didn’t speak Spanish and had very little. But I wanted to start over and decided to work at the fish market. It was exciting because all I knew were fish sticks. I learned Spanish quickly and started building a new life. It was always clear to me that I wanted children, even though people advised against it. When I became pregnant, I was just happy, despite the fears and challenges.

During your pregnancy, you found out that you were living with HIV. How did you cope with that?

I accepted the risk from the beginning. I felt healthy, had no symptoms. It was a difficult situation, but I trusted that everything would be fine. It wasn’t until later, after the birth of my second son, when my values worsened, that I started medication. I accepted what was and continued on my path. My sons were born healthy, and I was overjoyed.

Then you lost your partner. How was that time?

My partner died from AIDS. However, we hadn’t had a good relationship for a while before his death. He was very aggressive and constantly felt like a victim. Once he was sure that our son would be okay, he wanted to say goodbye. I was 30 years old at the time, and my oldest son was 4. It was a difficult time, but I knew I had to keep fighting – for my son and for myself.

Did you ever have contact with other people with HIV?

Actually, only with the father of my second son. In the drug scene, it’s different. You live in the moment and fight for survival. Also, unlike the HIV community, for example, within the gay community, many people in the drug scene take drugs temporarily and then stop. Things move much more dynamically in that group. Moreover, I used to keep my life with HIV to myself, but now, as part of the Positive Life Advisory Board, I’m happy to meet other people with HIV.