On the subreddit, /r/writingprompts, a prompt was posted for an intervention for a guy who has gone far too long sober.  All drugs are common and sobriety is frowned upon in this setting.

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They were all there. Uncle Bob was tweaking out on uppers. My mom was drunk. Dad was spaced on hallucinogens. And here I was, sober as could be.

“Son, what the hell is this?” Mom clumsily threw a baggy of ground up green herb.

“Holy shit, it’s a tarantula!” Dad climbed over the couch and hid behind it.

“Mom, it’s my weed.”

“Bullshit.” Mom hiccupped. “This is oregano. You think I don’t know what oregano smells like? I was young, I partied once too!”

“Mom, come on.” I tried to laugh it off. “I wouldn’t have oregano as fake weed.”

“That’s not weed!” Mom pointed at the baggy. “I know weed!”

Tears streamed from my eyes and I collapsed into the chair. “I’m so sorry everybody.”

Uncle Bob said nothing while he smoked meth in the corner and gave Dad another drop of acid. It was Mom that came and put her arm around me. “There there son.”

“It’s just, sobriety made me feel so alert and active.” I let the tears flow. “I just couldn’t stop once I started.”

“How long?”

“One year.”

“Take this.” Mom thrust the whiskey into my hands. “Take it now!”

I chugged and felt the vaguely familiar sting of alcohol. “Thanks. I needed this.”