‘I felt I knew God, and that I was his second son. I began writing a new religion, a mixture of Christianity, Islam and my own reflections. I’d never been so excited’

I started taking the anti-malarial drug Lariam before going to Ghana in October 2013. I was 20 years old, living near Rotterdam and studying healthcare technology – the trip was part of my degree. The nurse asked me if I or anyone in my family had ever had psychological problems, which I hadn’t. She warned me that some people experience side-effects, including hallucinations. I pocketed my prescription and set a reminder on my phone to take one pill a week.

Looking back, I can see the effects started before I left for Ghana, but at the time I blamed it on the stress of the trip ahead. My mind became chaotic, and I couldn’t make any decisions. I tried to pack, but would take something in each hand and stare at them in confusion. In the end, I had to ask my mum to help.

I travelled with three other students. We spent a few days in Accra before heading north to Tamale to stay with host families. I couldn’t sleep, and stayed up night after night writing a diary on my phone. After a few days, I was buzzing. I felt that everything I’d ever learned had come together in my mind, and the beauty of my ideas sent shivers down my back and legs. After less than a week, I felt I knew God, and that I was his second son. I began writing a new religion, a mixture of Christianity, Islam and my own reflections. I had never been so excited.

One night I was sitting in a chair, just staring at a wall, when the wall started to move. The colours were changing, patterns were forming in the shape of faces, and the wall shifted in circles. A grasshopper flew over and sat on the arm of my chair. I looked at it and thought, we are the same, but in different bodies. That night I shaved my entire body – everything except my head – because I thought it would make me more like a Ghanaian.

The next day I stopped taking my allergy medication and wearing my contact lenses, because I knew I was chosen and could make miracles happen. But later that day I was suddenly short of breath, very hot and then shivery, and I knew I was sick. I went to talk to a doctor in the hospital in Tamale, who told me to stop taking Lariam – he’d also had a bad experience. I wandered around the hospital, telling random people I was sick, that I was Jesus. I lay down on a bed in the corridor, hallucinating and crippled by stabbing pains in my joints.

My friends found me and took me back to the host family. They called my father, who was already worried, as I’d been sending him text messages saying one day we’d meet Bruce Springsteen. When I heard his voice, I could barely recognise it, as if we hadn’t spoken for years. He cried, telling me I needed to get help.

I took an emergency flight to Accra, escorted by paramedics. When the doctor at the clinic there gave me a blood test, I told him he could use my holy blood to make a cure for malaria, and that he should call it Timandjulia, after me and my girlfriend. A psychologist diagnosed me as manic. I tried to run away in my flip-flops, but I was caught, and taken to a second hospital where they could provide better care. One night I felt as if the people on TV were trying to communicate with me, so I walked out and hailed a taxi to take me to the TV station. It was closed.

I didn’t want to go home, but after three weeks two Dutch nurses came to collect me, sent by my parents and my insurance company. I’d lost 10kg in a month, and when my parents and my girlfriend met me at the airport they were shocked. I went straight from the airport to a closed psychiatric unit. I spent four months in psychological units in Holland.

The anti-psychotic medication turned me into a zombie, and I felt empty. I almost missed the high of the mania. Gradually I started reducing the medication. Now I’m totally free of drugs, and finally feel normal again. Doctors told me that more than one in 10 people who take Lariam experience side-effects, but that they vary wildly. The episode had a lasting impact on me. I am more open and social, and also have a renewed appreciation for normality – I never want to feel like the son of God again.

• As told to Moya Sarner.

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