Letters from Crystal Meth users - Page 7
Dear Readers: I just wanted to apologize for the dates of the letters not being in order. In general the higher the page number, the more recent the letter. However, I was not able to update the website for a number of months, so I have been slowly adding in "old" letters that were sent in, but I was not able to post until now. Thanks, D.
What's Up
Hey what's up. People call me N-DOE and I am a narcotic addict. Anyways, I started smoking weed when I was 14 in 1994. I started stealing, lying, and I dropped out of school. I was smoking weed and hustling people from 1994 to 2003. I almost got shot and stabbed a few times, but I didn't care. I kept on with the lifestyle that I never should have known. I worked off and on, but I kept on getting fired for stealing or talking shit to my boss and co-workers.
Then in 2001 I quit looking for jobs and just hustled for a living. I even went so low as to rob homeless people for cash. The more I stole the worse I felt. The worse I felt, the more I wanted to get high. The more I wanted to get high the more I stole. It was a cycle.
I smoked weed everyday for 9 years, then in february of 2003 I was introduced to glass, or meth, whatever you wanna call it. I was addicted on the first hit I took. I couldn't believe the high it gave me. It was ten million times stronger than cocaine, plus it lasted ten times longer. I started snorting and smoking glass everyday all day and all night every night. At first it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Then I started hearing people whispering and creeping around outside of my window. For awhile I just started playing music that let them know I wasn't scared. Then after awhile it started getting on my nerves. So I would creep outside slow and quietly. Next thing I know I was chasing the shadow people with a hatchet. Funny thing though, I could never catch them.
I would get so high. I would see smoke all over when there was no smoke. Then one day one of my friends started dealing it, and he started selling to my other friends, then the shit hit the fan. Ya see, I had a crush on my friends woman for a long time, and I saw how much money my friend owed my friend who started selling him the glass, and he just kept giving him more and more. So for some reason I got it in my head my friend was having his woman screw my dealer friend to pay off their debt; and man I went crazy.
See the thing is, that I was friends with my friend's woman before they got together and I TRULY fell in love with her. It was love at first sight, but nothing ever happened. So after I started thinking that was happening I took a turn for the worst. I started blacking out. One time I blacked out and when I woke up everything in my room was on my bed and I was picking through the floor obviously looking for pieces I might have dropped. When I came out of that black out, I flipped. I started tossing shit all over the place, breaking things, tearing up mail, and basiclly I just flipped. I broke down and started crying, then I started praying to God to help me get off of the glass.
I kept doing glass for two weeks. On November 2nd 2003 I don't know what the hell happened. All I know is, my friends were over and they were telling me if I didn't calm down they were going to beat my ass. I sat back in my room and they were sitting in the living room. I remember holding the hatchet just in case they would come back there and try beating me. I also called one of my old time friends up and told him what was going on. I asked him to bring me out some weed to see if that would calm me down.
Sure enough he came out, but weed wasn't the only thing he brought with him. He brought his gun out to. He didn't like them people I was hanging around. So he told them if they fucked with me they were gonna get shot. They finally left, but before they left I stole about 2 grams of glass from my dealer friend. I had already been up for at least 5 or 6 days.
The next day I flipped again. I cut my face with a sharp jagged edged knife. I went out driving through my neighbors yards at about 50 mph. Then I went out of the trailer park and started driving crazy all through out the town. When I got back I went back to my room and started smoking again. I started hearing my friend's girl and my dealer friend screwing underneath my trailer. I saw writing on my walls and my ceiling. I started screaming shut the fuck up out the window. I went outside and I kicked the skirting of the trailer in and looked underneath. There was no one there, but I still kept hearing them screwing. I went back to my room and started smoking more.
My mom was home sick from work that day, and I didn't know she called the local family crisis center. The family crisis center came over with their counselors and the police. I was just taking a hit when a police officer opened my door and saw what I was doing. All the sudden, a soothing calm came over me, and I knew that this was God's answer to my prayer. So I handed the cop my pipe, and I gave him the rest of my stash. I went out to the living room and the counselors and the police asked me if I would go to the hospital to get checked out willingly. I said yes, they let me have one last cigarette before I went.
While I was in the hospital, I started hearing things. I heard my dealer friend talking about how there was some big conspiracy against me, and that I was going to do at least 65 years in prison. He also said a magazine was going to pay him to tell my story, but he wasn't even there. After that I blacked out. I remember waking up in the ambulance, and that I was strapped down to the gurney. I thought I heard the paramedic say he was going to open the ambulance door up and shove me out of the ambulance into the traffic where I would die. I guess the ambulance had to stop 7 times because I broke free from the restraints 7 times and started punching the paramedic. It took 8 shots of some sort of tranquilizer to put me to sleep, but the people in the psych ward said I wasn't sleeping when I came in.
I was screaming and swearing and spitting on people, somehow I went to sleep and I didn't wake up for 2 days. When I heard what I was like when I came in, I apologized to all the staff. I didn't know what the hell was going on, but when I was in the psych ward I thanked God I was still alive. They kept me in the psych ward for 7 days. Then they transferred me to the detox center in dakota county. I stayed there for 3 days. Then from there I went to court where they orded me to go to treatment at the riverplace counseling center in anoka mn.
That was the best treatment center I had ever been to. There was people from california there and all over the country. It really helped me through that first month. The whole time I was there, I could taste and smell the meth.
It's now April 8th 2005. I have been sober since July 18th 2004. I bought a dime bag of weed and slipped up, but I am glad to say I haven't had any slip ups in 9 months as of this april 18th. I still have cravings, but I find it alot easier to cope with them now.
When Hoobastank came out with that song "THE REASON" I made that song my anthem to my Mom, she's put up with my shit for so long, and I don't think I'd be alive today without her. One of these days I am gonna pack up and move out on my own like I should, but for now I am in really good hands. With people who love me, and that is what I need most right now. I don't hang around none of my old meth using friends anymore. That would be way to big of a temptation, and like the red hot chili peppers say, "I DON'T EVER WANNA FEEL HOW I DID THAT DAY"! NO LIES! THANKS FOR READING MY STORY, AND MAY YOU ALL BE BLESSED WITH PEACE AND SERENITY! N-DOE, Farmington, MN, Dakota, USA, Apr 08, 2005
Shock!
I was in shock when I began to browse this site. I am an addict, and crystal was my drug of choice for the better part of 5 yrs. I can't even begin to tell you how many bottoms I hit, and I still couldn't see the insanity. I was in denial, meth RIPS through your BRAIN! This drug leads you so far away from yourself that when you finally get a glimpse of the reality you left behind it feels so hopeless that you can't even find the courage of motivation to attempt the journey back. I know first hand this feeling. But recovery from meth can never be succesful unless you are honest with yourself. It can't be done for anyone but yourself. (family and friends are support!) I lied to the people who loved me for a year. I was seeing an addictions doctor by this time, he wanted me to go to treatment, I didn't. It took exactly a year from April 2003 for my life to go from manageable (by this I mean everything on the outside was fine, inside I was Fuckedup-Insecure-Neurotic-Emotional (F.I.N.E.) To a shattered existence characterized primarily by a never ending series of chaotic and catastrophic events. And my brain was telling me that meth was still a solution, that it was the only thing that was keeping me sane throughout all of this.
I was among the fortunate that had people in my life who were just standing in the shadows ready to rescue me if I ever asked. It was on April 23/2004 that I entered a treatment center. That's when I caught a glimpse of how screwed up I was. And broken, lost, scared, the self loathing was enough to torture me every night, morning, and minute of the days. At that point I couldn't understand why anyone would want to clean up. but I stayed, I still don't know what kept me there. I didn't know myself anymore, I felt SO uncomfortable in my skin, I hated me, but I also knew that if this was it no one would want it. I got to the point where I challenged it, there was no use fighting it unless I was victorious in the end. I spent 5 1/2months at that facility. In 3 weeks I will be a year sober. One day at a time, one minute, and by the grace of a higher power one second if need be.
The insanity is still there, but looking back where it once consumed me, it now is just a fleeting thought. I worked through the paranoia, the rigid negative attitude/self image, the fear, the crazy thinking. Now I am overwhelmed when I look back to where I was a year ago, and see how much has chaged.
I AM NOT CURED, there is no cure for whatever drives us to use. but there is hope. If you put half the energy you put into doing your drugs, as you put into getting off, you have hope. Honesty is the foundation of my life today, the chaos returns the second I start being dishonest with myself.
I will be 22yrs old 10 days after my 1 year sober. I always thought I had more years of using in me. I can remember hating people like me in my using(and prior) I thought they were "goody-goody", I was rebelious (I wanted to be hard-core). Today I have my life back, I have healthy relationships with people who I love and trust, I am in school, I am self reliant (not drug reliant).
I am grateful for my past though, because that's what has made me the person I am today. I should have been dead. It's a journey that isn't easy but by writting this I hope I can leave you with my truth, that it is possible. Anything is possible. Remember that your head is fucked up, and your brain is going to tell you things that aren't rational (but you'll think they are...) That's the labyrinth of meth. This site doesn't sugar coat the reality of crystal meth; the poetry is amazing, I remember that insanity, and I can't forget that. Thank you and Regards to those who shared their Experience Strength and Hope. N. Vancouver, BC, Canada, Mar 30, 2005
I can make it
Hello I would like to share my story. During my sophmore year of highschool I was in a career class. Mrs. Lindsey asked everyone to look at their life in five years. I imagined that I would be in my second year of college... never did I think that I would be in drug rehab. It all started when I was 14 years old. My best friend... Ali, and I started smoking pot - alot. When we went to highschool we continued smoking pot and both made other friends and started going to wild parties and just living it up.
My best friend started using meth shortly after that. I had never even tried it. We kind of lost touch with each other. I stayed away from meth for about six months and then my curiosity is what got me! I had never in my wildest dreams felt this good! I kept using on weekends and just once in a while - not every day. I could not get ahold of Ali finally I ran in to her mom. Her mom told me that she was sent to rehab in Utah for a year.
That's when I relized how serious this was. I stoped using for only a month but somehow kept finding myself right back in the middle. I finished highschool and moved in to a house in town with four of my friends. I started using alot! Two of my roomates who are no longer friends moved out and one of my junkie friends moved in. We got high everyday, morning and night. We were on top of the world! Everything was great we worked we had friends we looked great for a while! This went on for a few months. One morning I walked into work I was so tired. I did not have any meth at all for 1 whole day. I was so sick. I was vomiting and then most embarassing - everything went dark!
I woke up on the hard cold floor of my work with my co-workers worried sick. I was sent home. I remember laying on my couch and my friend - who would do anything for me if I asked, looked at me with tears in his eyes and said "I am so worried about you."
I told him and made him believe I was fine. As I lay there calling to get my drugs brought to me in exchange for my TV. I knew I was in over my head. SCARED to death I just got high again. As time went by all my roomates and myself looked pretty rough!
People started questioning us and of course we became very defensive. My family became very worried. My mom has always been the type that would not have me or my brother doing any drug. I kept lying. I wanted to stop but I couldn't. The night that my mother got married. I left her wedding early. Someone told her that the police were investigating my house and that I was on drugs and going to get busted. The next morning my mom came to my house, and I left with her to go talk. She took my car and my phone and put me in detox. I always say she kidnapped me, but if she wouldn't have I would still be using. She called my best friend Ali who has been clean for 2 years and ALi came to me and is still here for me. I have been clean for 4 months and never felt better. It has been really rough but I have all the support to get through it. I moved 3,000 miles away from home and I will start school in the fall. One thing that was the hardest for me was knowing that I am labled now - an addict. I just take one day at a time and some are better than others but somehow, I know that I can make it. AJ, New York, New york, Mar 30, 2005
Not sure I want to quit
Hi, I am 20 years old and addicted to meth. I began using on October 5, 2003. I quit using for about 2 1/2 months and just recently began using again. To tell you the truth, I honestly don't know why I began using. I guess peer pressure really is a bitch. When I began using I weighed 115 lbs (because I'm a small person anyway.) Within a month I had already lost so much weight that I looked dead. In December, I quit using for a month because my husband went to jail and I didn't want to do it without him. He got out in January, and we began using again. For some unknown reason, I stepped on the scale in February. I almost passed out when I saw the numbers staring back up at me. I only weighed 73 lbs. Three weeks later, I found out that I was going to be a mommy! Oh, and were we excited! We had BIG plans. We were going to stop using finally and become a REAL family. I couldn't wait!
So, we called up some friends to tell them the good news and we all decided to celebrate. We celebrated all right, straight to the dope mans house!! I continued to use, telling myself everyday I needed to quit because of the baby. I didn't and I lost my baby on May 18, 2004 because of the continued using and from one hellacious beating from my husband (which he had done daily from the day after we were married which was October 7, 2003.) I left him finally and the meth on July 10, 2004. I was clean until about 2 weeks ago, and the only reason I started using again was because I missed how I felt when I was high. I felt like I was in control and people would listen to me! Boy! I'm sober right now as I'm writing this, but do I wish I had a bowl to smoke! So, I'll be going now. I just want to let you guys know that I hate my addiction. Only I can stop it. But I honestly don't know if I want to! EmaLee, C'town, GA, USA, Oct 11, 2004
Best of Luck
I have used crytal meth for over 2 years. It started out as a couple of points here and there, then slowly progressed to 1/2's and grams to 8balls. Soon I was selling meth to support my habit. I had a government job, a beautiful girlfriend and a new born son. I was pinched on the highway by the police, I lost my job my family and everything I had loved. Still I did not see meth as a problem in my life. I spent the next few months tech'd out in my basement, contemplating suicide; thinking of that my friends and family were plotting against me. Soon my use got to the point where I was getting drunk in order to come down, which led to violent and aggressive behavour. I was set off by the easiast things, i came home one day and tore apart my house, the police were called and I was put in jail. I got out the next day and was went into detox. From thier I learned the symptoms of withdrawl. Yet while in thier I still figured I could use meth occaisonally. A week after getting out of detox I got a call from my doctor and was diagnosed with Hepatitas B. I'm considered a carrier, and cannot be cured of this disease. I'm not an injection user nor do I sleep around, I contracted Hep B, from using a pipe while having cracked lips from the meth use. I once thought this was a learning lesson, I now know its a life lesson. A lesson from which I was taught a great deal about the use of drugs and the mental, phyical and emoitonal effects that it has on me an my loved ones. I can honestly say that I will never use drugs again in this life time, I have only 1 life, one liver and a son whom I want too see grow up, graduate and get married. I cherish everday of my life and every moment I have with my son. Who really knows how long I will be around, all I know is that my odds of dying are much greater then the average persons. And that was all the treatment that I needed, was to be told that I have Hep B. I wish everyone the best of luck in thier recovery and strongly suggest one attends NA meetings, or get help asap. Just take it one day at a time. Darren, Canada, Oct 10, 2004
Misty Eyed, but still Alive!
My name is Misty and I'm an addict. This is my story. I started smoking weed when I was 11. At age 12 I smoked my first hit of crack. I was just a little girl hanging out with the big boys. My boyfriend at the time was 22. He told me I was smoking hash which was the same thing as pot. After the first few hits I liked it alot, too much, that's when he told me it was crack. I told him I didn't care what it was. I liked it and wanted more.
I think I was trying to cover up the pain I was going through at home. I was raped for several years by my stepfather and when my Mom found out she took his side and left me with my Grandmother. Right before I turned 13, I slit my wrist and when my Granddaddy found out I got beat for it. He broke my jaw. I was put in foster homes for 1 year and 6months, until I was given back to my Grandmother because I was such a problem child.
By this time, I was using anything I could. At age 16 I got pregnant. I slowed down on my drug use and just smoked weed for the next 9 months. After the birth of my first son, I started useing anything and everything again. 3 months later I found out I was pregnant again. This time I used everything through the whole 9 months. By the grace of God he was okay. When I turned 19, I met my husband who was 39. At the time I thought he was great.
He was an IV drug user and that's when I went straight to hell and met the devil himself METH. I wasn't like most people. I didn't start out smoking it. I went straight to banging it. At 22 I gave birth to a little girl who only weighed 4 pounds and was very sick and once again by the grace of God she pulled through it. Then when she turned 3 months old, the state came and took my little angels from me and now I dont even know where they are at or even if they are okay.
I finally got clean for 8 months. Then my Grandmother was killed in a senseless car wreck. That's the only excuse I needed to start back. I had nothing left. My children were gone and my husband left me for another woman 2 weeks after my Granny died.
So, I just lived my life around meth 24-7. I even sold myself to any man or woman that came along. I wanted to die. I almost got my wish. I turned yellow and was so sick, I was passing out all the time and my urine looked like coffee grounds. I was put in the hospital for 2 weeks. I was told I might die. I had hepatitis C and I was only working on 15 percent of my liver.
Do you think that would have stopped me from using? Nope, I still had dope dealers bring me dope to the hospital. When I got out of the hospital. I kept using full speed whith no end in sight. Then 2 weeks before christmas. Dec.17 to be exact. I finally had enough. All my dealers where in jail or hideing from the law. I was so sick from lack of dope. I was hungry and cold. I was staying in this trailor whith no lights or water just a phone so I could call around to get more dope. I called my brother who I had not seen in a year and ask him if I could come home and get clean and he said yes. Today is April the 6th. I've been clean since Dec.17. I'm in drug treatment programs and N/A and its working. I'm going to the doctors to get my liver taken care of, and I'm working on forgiving myself for the past. I look forward to most days and I don't want to die any more. I WANT TO LIVE. I hope you read my story and it gives you a little hope. There is a light at the end of a tunnel. Some times you just have to open your eyes. I pray for each and every addict in the world that they find the right thing to feel that hole inside them. God bless you all. Misty Bland, Hanceville, Alabama, United States, Apr 06, 2005
Losing My Mind
I've been clean for 9 years. I started using meth when I was thirteen. At the time I had a photographic memory. I do not know at what time my memory detiorated, but it did. I am now going to college and even after 9 years of abstinence; I still do not have the mental capacity I experienced as a child. Even so, I do believe there has been improvement, more so every year. Still, there are whole years, that I do not remember. Which may be a blessing considering what behavior you participate in during 13 years of intense meth use. Now that I am in school though, and wishing for more mental capacity, I would like to know of any evidence of new treatment for brain recovery from meth abuse. Please, do you have any more information about treatment. Thank you, longtime clean, short term memory. Dixie Hargrove, Mindless, Apr 06, 2005
Hi Dixie, Please continue to check the Research section of the website every couple of months, as I am always posting new info as I find it or people send me in the links. At this point, your mental capacity should gradually continue to improve up to the point where your brain can no longer repair the damage that was done. Only your doctor after running a bunch of tests can really know or give you an idea of what if anything may help you regain your memory. Alice
Just Like Everyone Else
I guess that I am like just about everyone that has their letters posted on your site. I am a meth addict... I hate the way that sounds, but it's the truth and It's time for me to stop hiding in the dark. My name is Sara, I am 22 and from Iowa. I used dope the first time when I was 15... I did about a quarter in one line and stayed up for 2 days... it was the scariest and most horrible experience of my life. I wish that I would have payed more attention to that fact 3 years later when I smoked my first foil. I can honestly say (thank God for this) I never graduated to using needles, and I think that the only thing that stopped me from that was my fear of enjoying it too much.
I did meth every other way possible though. I smoked it, snorted it, ate it, put it in my drinks, laced my weed with it, any way I could possibly do more. At the peak of my addiction, I was using over a quarter ounce a day and I can thank only God for the fact that I am still alive. I was staying up on 12-15 day binges with 2 or 3 hours of sleep once a week if I was lucky. Then one day, I didn't feel so invincible anymore and that was terrifying cuz I had been using daily for over 3 years and for what reasons?
Because I thought that dope was my escape, it was my escape from my family, my friends, my life, but most importantly, myself. When I was on meth, I felt like the world was at my fingertips and the weirdest thing about that is that I didn't realize it made me feel that way until I got clean... when I was using daily, I didn't need a reason. I just knew that it would make me feel better cuz I have to have and it seemed that there was a limitless supply at my fingertips and why not?
I'll tell you why not. I am now 22 years old and addicted to meth, the love of my life died last year. I lost the trailer we were buying together because I couldn't stand the sight of the place after Brad was gone. I lost my job because with him gone, the only thing I felt that I had left was dope. That was what we always did together when anything went wrong. So of course I turned to that when he was gone. I didn't know how to cope with the feelings of losing him, it was trully the first set of honest emotions that i had had in years.
And of course after spending 3 years being numb, all of this pain, suffering, and emotion was too much for me to handle so what did I do? I started using more meth of course, cuz meth was the reason that he was dead but somehow my brain was still telling me that meth would make it all better... and it did for a moment. I was 21 when Brad died, it was 2 months before my 22nd birthday, 2 days after my birthday a friend of mine blew up his lab an hour after I left there... I could have died and I didn't care, I just went and got more dope to make it not hurt so much.
The feds got involved with that and so I changed groups of friends cuz I had never been involved that deeply, (Brad and I were dealers but never cooks) and the new friends I found were even worse. I moved in with a girl that was so addicted, she was having sex with different men to get free meth and I thought that was disgusting but it still didn't stop me from partying with her or send up any red flags that maybe this isn't someone I should be spending time around until the day I went to jail. I trusted someone that had I been sober, I probably would have never spoken to, and she set me up with the cops for something that I didn't do, but in my prolonged exposure to the drug world, it was implanted in my brain to never snitch and I didn't and I won't.
The investigators know that I am not the one who committed the crime and they begged, pleaded, and threatened until they were blue in the face and I just kept telling them that I was excercising my right not to speak. I am now facing 2 felonies, 4 misdemeanors, and 18 years in prison. I am very lucky by some people's standards, with what they nailed me with, I could have been facing life. I feel that I am lucky in a way because even if I do get locked up, I have finally been set free... I am 25 days clean today and that is the longest I have gone without meth since I was 18 years old.
My addiction was a life sentence and I just got paroled. I am experiencing feelings again, I have "normal" friends who don't want to just hang out and smoke foils all day... we go out and do things, we go to bars and play pool, we go bowling, we go for hikes in the woods, and too many other things to mention. Anyways my point is, I made a deal with the devil and he got my soul but I'm getting it back... I think this website is awesome, it makes me feel not so alone.
I am sort of seeing someone now and he has never had the desire to try meth in his life and I often tell him that I envy him because I wish that I could say the same. He told me recently "not to walk where it's slippery" and I am now starting to understand what that means. Therapists and councelors tell you that if you want to quit meth you have to quit the crowd, you have to reinvent yourself and your life and when you are in the middle of your addiction, you can't stand that thought cuz the only people you want to spend time around are the people that you use with. But they are right, you will relapse again and again if you are around people that are using... I have alot of regrets, some that I can do something about and 1 big one that I can never change.
Brad was my best friend from the time that I was 12 years old until the time that he died. We let a little white powder change our friendship, our hearts, and our worlds... his 5 year old son doesn't have a father and I am left to try and keep his memory alive when I can barely stand to speak of him... I suppose that in time it will get easier... until then though, I will fight my demon and hope that learning to open up to people and tell my story will keep someone somewhere from ever taking that first hit and surrendering themselves to their own life sentence. Thanks for listening. Sara Pope, Dubuque, Iowa, Jan 13, 2005
TWISTED
There’s a place I’d like to show you, where laughter is scarce and all the beauty of the world normally colorful… bleeds dark and bare… welcome to a day inside of a this girl, with prisons of torture, welcome to my world. It’s easy to stare down from the safety of home and call out names to those who roam. Wasted words only cut so deep, empty is my kingdom on this desolate street. I rule this desperate palace full of torture and malice, A true queen bee, cast out by a disease that has forsaken me. I truly thought, only for the anguish I brought, and if all that I have to share is the suffering I bare… then I give to you, some of the sin I do. To the living world, you should all learn of the self-indulgence I yearn. These words I wield disguise no sugar coated lies. If there is any light at all to be shed, let it be known that I am already dead. Stringing all my hope together on a line, tied and bound to the misery I find. In every dim corner I walk unable to capture the dose I stalk. My arms bold and scarred from this war, I’m nothing but a shell and still I crave more. Sanity grows farther as my death comes near, I’m still so young but the end brings no fear. My prayers are nothing more than words to the wind, but still I fall and plead to him “lord save me from this fruitless life, I’m lost to the cause and I’m barely alive.” My pathetic sobs I dare not shout for all that is weak in me, shall all pour out. My soul is taken by this ominous place, and my gaze is foreign to this lifeless face. Sometime long ago, I lost a fine person I used to know. There was good back then, in the people I’d see, not every one was hateful, not even me. It’s hard to imagine time without fear, but that was then, and now I’m trapped here. I am a murderer of my own flame and with her dies a stranger with no name. If there’s any ounce of life left in me, I spare for the object of my slavery. I soak up my days, every hour through a cotton, my precious, it’s blurry, until years are long since forgotten. - Jacinta, Sep 29, 2004
Just thinking about it
For most of my life I felt like an outsider, always just watching from afar and never fitting in. I decided I needed to find myself in order to discover where I belonged. I searched in music and found some solace but was still alone. I searched in my job and career which kept me relatively busy but I was still alone. I searched in family and relationships but nobody could ever relate to me so I was still alone. Finally, I decided that if I was destined to be alone my whole miserable life, I'd at least have some "fun" before I died. I soon found out that my definition of fun was 180 degrees off.
I started to seek daily meaningless relationships. I indulged in alcohol and get drunk at almost every opportunity I had. I'd do all kinds of crazy shit when I was drinking--I had no inhibitions. I started hanging with people I would probably try to avoid if I were sober and I soon started building network of "friends" (more like acquaintances) who were always down to party.
It was bound to happen, and I told myself if it ever did that I'd "just say no" (HA!)... In the course of all this partying eventually I was offered line of coke. I did it. I don't know why I did, I can't say I was "pressured" to do it--if I refused, life would have went on and nobody would have much cared.
Up to this point in my life I had always ridiculed people who abused drugs as the throw-away people of society--people who are worthless and wicked. I suppose my thought process at the time was that lots of people have tried drugs and gone on to be okay. I was intelligent enough to know where the line between experimentation and abuse was and not to cross it. As it turns out, the (little white) line was already behind me.
Several weeks go by and once again I'm drunk doing things which I should be thinking twice. This time I'm offered crystal meth. Again, I don't know why but I did it. (*WHY?!*)
The funny thing about the first time you smoke meth is that you don't feel like you got "high". Meth just made me feel good--almost "normal". It gave me the boost I needed and the things I always wanted: to be confident, to feel important, cool and far more superior than I ever felt before. And the best part was that this feeling lasted for a long time. With everything I had tried before, I had become accustomed to a hangover period--with meth there was no hangover (at least the first time). Sure, I slept for 20 hours after I came down, but after that I felt okay.
I told myself this would be the first and last time. (The last time again?)
Several weeks go by, life was back to normal and I pretty much forgot about my first meth experience. I get a call from my meth friends asking if I wanted to party. Again, I thought, "I might as well have some fun in this life before I die," so I went. I got high again.
I started meeting new people--all tweakers. These people were interesting to me as they all had life stories different than anything I had ever experienced. Also, they accepted me and I finally felt like I fit in--something I had been searching for my whole life. Most of these people seemed to respect each other--something I hold in high regard. However, I'd soon see this was mostly just an illusion as you cannot respect someone who has no respect for themselves. All these people (including me) hung out with each other for one reason: it reinforces your choice of behavior. It is the phenomena known as "drinking buddies"--but in this case applied to meth.
Soon I started lying on what I was doing or where I was going to my (true) friends and family. I started spending money I didn't have. I started missing work. When the money ran out I started pawning things. I started avoiding people for whom I cared because I loathed myself. For a brief moment I considered stealing from my mom (and anyone who knows me and my family would be shocked and appalled at this--as they should be). I'd spend hours in filthy scary places I did not want to be just for opportunity to could score some shit.
On a couple of occasions I'd tweak for 5 days with no food or sleep. My mouth would be so caked with residue and from being dehydrated that I'd have to brush my teeth 3 times a day. Medicated chapstick became a necessity.
All of this has happened in just the last 10 weeks. Only now am I starting to become sketchy. When I start to fall-out and people are talking I seem to hear them talking about me. I see people watching me out of the corner of my eye, but when I look it's usually just a chair or tree or something.
At this point I know I'm in deeper than I ever wanted to be. I just hope I can get out before I ruin my life. I don't know what fun is, but this is not it. Now I just want to become sober before I die.
I know from now on I'll be addicted to meth... I just have to find a way to not use it. It will be a day by day struggle. Sometimes when I see out of the corner of my eye a pen or pencil sitting somewhere I mistake it for a meth pipe. Often I involuntarily imagine the smell and taste of a freshly loaded bowl and visualize vapors dancing inside the glass pipe... FUCK! You know what's perverted? Just now thinking about taking a hit made me happy. God help me. mikee, Sep 15, 2004
My Testimony
Hi, my name is Connie. I used meth for over ten years. I am 33 years old and I have 7 kids ages 18 yrs to fourteen months. I hit rock bottom about three and a half years ago. I'm okay now. I haven't beaten my addiction yet. I still get the craving for it when life gets harsh. Habit.
We all know what the bitch does to us, dirty nasty little whore that she is - that crystal. She's a fortune digger and she isn't picky about what kind of fortune she takes. She will devour cash, love, family and forget about any kind of self worth escaping her greedy jaws. Bad skin and even worse teeth. Bad habits and friends that aren't really there for you.
They are with your bitch, and yeah shes cheating on you, with every hurt soul in the meth world. Slut. People tell us constantly the nature of her ways, yet their pleas fall on deaf ears. All you can think about is going up those glass thighs and diving into her bowl of sweet deception.
Afterwards you believe her lies of how you can handle anything. How great you are. What a great parent and person you are and all the bad shit is everyone else's fault. Well fuck-your shitty little mistress. You know that you live in a dive. You know you've let the one real things in your life escape because you couldn't look after them. Fucking loser. They didn't ask to be born into your world of crisis.
You look like shit. You feel great though as long as you have her. No friends, no responsibility except to her and no hurt. What? Who said anything about hurt? No-one. That's the problem. I didn't have a clue how to deal with any kind of trauma that affected my emotional being. I knew I was tough and strong. After all, that's what Daddy beat into me on a drunken binge. I knew about sacrifice, and love for two little faces that I just couldn't bear to see suffer in confused hurt because their mother who was not my own, told them I was a horrible sisiter. I was not allowed to talk to them. Not allowed to play. Not allowed to shine any kind of promising light in regards to my future. That took attention away from her. She would lie to my dad every day to get me beat up when I got too big to bully. Take my things and burn them. Tell me how fucking ugly T was, and could I get the hell out of her presence?
She would say how very much I was like my real mother. I used to wonder if my real mom was such a bad person. She had to be, if I was just like her. Also for her to just abandon me like that. When my sisters started being affected by my step mom's obsession with me, i left. I knew if I was not there to pose any threat to her, my siblings would have a real life with a mom and a Dad.
I REELED ON THE STREETS NEVER STOPPING. Forgot all about the hurt. Drugs did such a wonderful job of stopping that wound from bleeding. Do what daddy did. Drink. Drug. Want love so bad. But I don't know how to give it back, and don't even realise it. Then came the knowldge of my own creation growing in my belly. True love. the only thing in my life that was ever really mine. He loved me all the time no matter what. Oh such bliss! But the hurt would creep in and life would take a new direction.
A new drug. I met my Mom. Then the fun started. No answers from her, but I loved her. She was too selfish to love back. She died, and I died. Such began my love-affair with crystal. Nothing ever made me feel so good. Except mabey my kids. She enveloped me in swirling smokey skirts of lies and deception and when I couldn't deny it any longer about how bad crystal is, she left me with nothing but ruins. Poor me!
Whatever. It happened because I let it happen. The very thought that it was pretty much all my fault was a whole new hurt to deal with. So I hid for a while and I cried tears all alone for two months. Tears for everything and everyone and for myself. For the lonely little girl that was never a child. For the troubled teen with little esteem. For the major fuck-up I had become and for the beautiful babies I had failed.
As bad as i felt, they felt the exact same. Who the hell was I to inflict my torture on them and yet they still loved me. They needed me. That's where it all started. As a gesture for my kids that eventually turned into a healing experience for my soul. To forgive. To love without reservation. To be meaningful and honest. To like me. To love me.
I am going to college now to learn how to be an Addictions Worker. To give back to the world what I denied it when I was sick. My toolbelt is full of significantly useful tools for lfe. The knowledge that I gained from being an addict will be put to good use. However, sometimes, when a liitle stab of pain creeps up. I remember all the wonderful blinding kisses that crystal gave me and sometimes I visit.
Her face is full of speed bumps and she reeks of death and corruption. So I leave and thank God for the new eyes. how strong we are as addicts! No one else could carry the burdens of our lives. God never gives you more than you can handle. All you need is the desire to change and the courage to try, and know that you are special and worth everything that the world has to offer. Deal with the reasons why we medicate and the wound heals. Life is a gift, love it and live it. Connie aka smethpet, Abbotsford, BC, Canada, Apr 14, 2005
Losing my Battle
I am currently struggling and losing my battle to stay off Meth. I relate to a lot to others on this page and I would like to add this. Had I not hit totally rock bottom, meaning not a pot to piss in and too ashamed to tell my family who thinks I'm doing great at college, because if I did I would literally lose all ties. Meaning I have messed up plenty of times before with Meth and the poems were a eye opener. This is the first time in my life, where I truly feel like I'm on a merry go round and unlike my childhood days where jumping off and landing on my feet was the primary goal. I had no concept of fear/pain of hitting the ground 50 times on my butt. That was part of the learning process to the art of balancing my body to land straight up, with only my feet touching the solid ground.
Now I am consumed with fear and I cannot jump, because if I do I am afraid that I will die from the pain of landing. My mind is on overload with emotions, and I have tried everything except psycho-therapy. To be honest the damn world scares me, because I have this fear of going back to the past. I have an ugly traumatic one. I am fine with accepting it, and I have forgiven those who I need to forgive. I just want to continue protecting myself from being overlooked by a potential friend, boss, mate, etc.
Here's the thing, I hate myself, and I admit this now. I also admit to liking Meth, because the first time I smoked it I was o.k. with hating myself. Ironically I did the opposite of hate and overnight I became this confident social bug, with new found desires to openly confess personal info, and I trusted that all who heard me, would see this person that I saw now, despite the ugly past. I know now, that I was feeling good from the dophimine/serotonin and depression did not set in or I would not allow it back in my rolodex of emotions, for at least three years after my first puff.
Yes, I went through feeling like everybody around me loved me for my honesty, and they found me as a rare jewel. That only a selected handful where to feel special that I chose them as my friend. To the rude awakening of my own cruel behavior to those involved in my past, and even to the point of cutting them out only after public humiliation of the pain they inflicted on me while I was a child. It was new a new and exciting time in my life. I was in control, and I didn't mind this at all.
Well I had been on this kick now a little over three years and one day it happened. My rock, whom I had been intimately involved on and off stumbled, and that time we separated and I moved on but still had him whenever I wanted. I felt like this, he was a strong person who chose to allow a personal setback, detour himself in the longest sulk and at the time I found him as a threat to my new found level of confidence. So, I began ignoring his needs and he left. Yes it hurt, but not for long, because I realized I could not function at all when I hurt. So, I denied the pain by continuing to see him, but at the time I shunned him to the public and I took their sympathy of the situation. I started dating a public icon at my job, which was even better because at the time it was all the proof that I needed for being out of the woods as far as self worth went.
I was loving life and I welcomed all envious stares from other co-workers. I wasn't happy though, and slowly it took effect on me. I couldn't shake my true feelings about my ex and I secretly began seeing him. I continued to keep the facade at work, and over time I started feeling the unwanted pain. If I had to describe it, I would say I was a beautiful green pasture glistening with morning dew, fresh and uncut, and then somewhere along the barb-wire fence a cow tripped through, and then a stampede and they stripped me of my fresh grass exposing my nakedness once again.
I died inside. I made a 800 mile move away from everyone and everything I knew. I tried to reclaim what I had felt before, but the drugs were there as well and so I fled from there and crawled back home. I tried to get my job back but was unsuccessful. This also hindered me emotionally for another year. So here I am now unable to cope without altering my mental state. Yet deep down, I know that there is no way I can survive on an altered mind. I need to learn how to deal with emotions in a healthy way.
Thank you and god bless this site. Amy Leigh, Fort Worth, Texas, USA, Apr 17, 2005
Not even the half of it...
Hi my name is Amanda, I'm 20 years old and I was addicted to Meth during the summer of 2004. I did it everyday. I probably only got a total of 12 hours sleep during the whole summer. I felt like crap when I was coming down. Some days I wished I was would of just die because it was that bad. My family had no clue about what I was doing, but they did notice the change in my attitude and my appearance.
I lost so much wieght in a week. I was a size 15 when I started and then I went down to sizes 9-11. I relized I was losing my friends, but I did not care. I was doing it before I went to summer school and to work. It made me feel good when I was on it because I had all the enegry in the world, but like I said when I was coming down it sucked.
I've now have been clean for six months. I have more friends now and I met a really great guy that has not touched any drugs his whole life. The real reason why I stoped the drugs is because I love mny family to much. I never went to visit my sisters when I was on it, because I was more worried about getting high.
My family now knows because I told my brother and he told my mom and the rest of the family. I really would like to sincerely thank him for that. I love you Brenden and I want to say thank you to all my true friends that stuck by my side and say that I love you guys for bening there and thank u to dennis which is the guy that I'm with. Remeber to be yourself because honsetly its not worth it if your not. "To the world you might just be one person, but to one person you might just be the world." That also got me through. I'm not afaird to say who I am. I just hope others learn from my mistakes and what I experianced. That story was not even half of it. Amanda Zacharzuk, Knox, Indiana, USA, May 04, 2005
Crazy Lifestyle
I just want to say to everyone out there that is struggling with meth addiction and want to stop the crazy lifestyle it leads. I used meth for 3 years straight everyday, all day. I lived in Atlanta when I started to use the drug on a regular basis. I moved back home to get away from the addiction and I am happy to say that I am off meth now and it has been 3 months now. I see the changes in my life after I stopped and gave me the power to move forward drug free. My life is so much better and I did it all on my own.
I wanted to stop and I was strong enough to stop all on my own.
I informed my family of my useage and they gave me the support I needed to stay clean. I have some cravings for it every once and a while but not enough to pick it back up again. I give myself my own tests of courage and temptation. In my closet I have found a baggy with some in it. Once I discovered it was there I looked at the bag and then folded it up and put it right back in the closet where it was before. That is my test of strengh knowing that it is there and not wanting to use it. So I say to people that are trying to get off the stuff, you will be a much happier, healther, and focused person. So you can do, I did. Btw. I also used to sell the stuff so I know what I was doing to people was making it destroy there lives and I want to apologize to them for that... Clean-in-upstate-ny, Albany, NY, Apr 19, 2005
Livin Wrong
I've been up for 2 days, which is nothing compared to weeks I've gone without sleep on meth. It's so boring being awake for days on end, and having no idea what to do with yourself. To cut the chase, I was so fucked up last night I just sat in my room trying to keep occupied. I'm an avid writer, so I began to jot some of my feelings about life, basically a journal entry. My writing then seemed to become 'not mine.' I would stop every now and then, read what I had just wrote and I didn't remember writing it. I do remember I was hallucinating a good bit. I kept seeing pictures in my head.
5 hours later, I had hand written 8 pages front to back of absolutely shit. I was analyzing just about anything. Skimming through my papers. I came across portions of the piece that was completely false. I had made up statistics to back up my opinion.. I even made up a magazine name. Strangely, I quit smoking weed for a job a few months ago. Then I figured I'd do shit that would be outta my system in a few days. Previous to this I had done my fair share of coke. 8 balls and such, experimented with acid and ecstacy... then came meth.
The first time it was set in front of me I bought $30 worth (i'm poor due to my drug habits). The dealer laid out a nice size rail and I just stared at it for 5 minutes, fearful what I would feel like afterward. Finally I snorted the shit, felt fantastic. Sadly... I'll never be able to achieve the same feelings ever again.
I finally broke down (emotionally/physically) a few weeks ago. I was on coke and crystal meth nonstop for a few weeks. I'm very disappointed in my decisions, my parents didn't rear me in this direction. I grew up in a Christian home, but when I began smoking weed I began to doubt anything every taught to me. I found myself at the bottom of this shitty fuckin pit w/ no one to talk to. I have one "friend" but she's judgemental. I'm a hippy and I don't understand how people can not accept all people and have love for everyone. After contemplating what the hell I was going to do. I drug myself to church all tweaked out. I cried most of the time, then came confession. I hadn't seen my priest in years, so I started out w/ a gentle ice breaker of doubting my faith.
Then I told him about weed, coke, meth, all that shit... He was stunned. Who wouldn't be? He tried to counsel me, but I just relapsed and here I am now. People ask "Why are you doing this to yourself?" When I buy meth, I'm not thinking... "Yes, time to poison myself!" Usually I'm digging the fact that I get to escape reality. Everything seems too perfect on meth almost, like nothing bad could happen.
When I'm coming down and I can't fall asleep. All of my daily frustrations, issues, problems, fears come out. I know I need help, but if I told my parents I'd be out on my ass w/ nowhere to go. That's not even the major issue. I'd be content living in a cardboard box, but to tell my parents that I'm a big fuck up and a disappointment to the family is not something I can bring myself to. I've tried several times to stop all the drugs I've been doing, but I hate myself sober.
I am so fearful of everything, that I'll mess up, but my self esteem is up to par when I'm buzzin. Not to bore you, but this is my only outlet, Sad huh? Seriously though, if you're thinkin about doin meth, or just did it a few times, throw the shit out. It causes so much pain and so many problems. I'm in nasty debt. I lost a lot of weight. I am a 5'10 female weighing 110. Besides being broke, and abnormally skinny, my face broke out in scabs from meth.Then my teeth started to ache, a sign that they're decaying. I know you're beating your face in the wall at this point because I rambled on, but deal w/ it. once again, just don't do meth, or any drugs for that matter. Livin Wrong, Eugene, Oregon, U.S., May 06, 2005
Tweaking or Not
HI my name is Kelli, I'm 20 years old... I think I've read everything on this site there is to read. I spent a lot of time on this website... while tweeking and then when not. I have almost 2 months clean today. I want anybody out there to know that I've been thru it, I know the story before I even hear it. I also did not think I could ever stop that it was some hazy dream of one day. But that one day is here and now for me and its a miracle beyond any human power or explanation and its the most beautiful experience and better than ANY high I ever had on dope even the first high. I've stared the devil in the face (meth), and I'd never trade that fact because if I hadn't I would not be where I am today. Everyday I wake up I am in amazment, I am not gonna try and figure anything out, I am just going with it because I DO know that I feel more peace and happiness and freedom at this point than I have in my whole entire life and its been by working a 12 step program which at one point in my life I had no faith in. I wanted to give somthing back to this site because this site helped me so much.
Here is somthing I wrote : " It's 11:38 pm, off to bed, wash my face adn brush my teeth, make sure to hit my knees no more reservations, thank God for another day clean, I'm still alive, reflect in amazement at the gratitude I feel inside, to feel the transformation and know its real is somthing I once thought to be so surreal. Without hesitation I can finally say God has done for me what I could not do for myself and its He who has gotten me thru the day. I look in the mirror and like what I see, not of ego, but becasue I can see the begginings of the real me, the person I am supposed to be , finally staring back at me. I hope if anyone out there feels they can't do it, they just have the willingness to believe in somthing greater than themselves that CAN and WILL do it for them... God Bless Peace..... Kelli, San Antonio, TX, US, May 09, 2005
Don't Be a Loser!
I had found a meth poem awhile back that really caught my attention when I was researching meth (trying to figure out whether I was going to die or not off my experience). So that is what has brought me to this web site... then I ran into this section.
I hope you take the time to read my story, it's all honest (true story from May 2004 that still has me traumatized). I will never say I was so close to death in my life... or that I thought I was going to do. Maybe my story will change somebody's mind about how they feel about meth or just uppers in general.
Maybe I overdosed, I don't know anything about glass. I was hellbent on doing it one weekend though. A friend was offering to do that and smoke herb all weekend and just hang out. Every time we'd smoke a joint, we'd do a line.
By the third day, my heart rate reached over 160 beats per minute. It wouldn't slow down. I couldn't take a shower without my nephew standing by the bathroom door because I was scared I'd faint in the shower and die. My mom thought I was going to die too but she didn't tell me that because she was being strong for me.
My mom had to take off from work to stay home with me and I wouldn't let her leave the room I was in. I was soooo terrified - the most I've ever been in my life. My heart raced for about 2-3 months straight before getting somewhat regular. It still skips around and stuff and has moments where it gets abnormally speedy (it use to not in the past).
Anyway, basically I just wanted to say to take it from someone who has been there... I wanted to try everything, get as fucked up as I could on whatever I could. It's not good, you'll end up dead on glass or meth, or any uppers (coke, speed, etc.).
The first night my heart messed up, my ribs felt like they were crushing in my stomach... I'm not sure but I'm pretty positive that my organs were shutting down. I can't explain the physical pain, the mental scarring, or the experience. I came close to having to have an ICD or open-heart surgery because of one weekend of "fun". It was the most horrible thing in my life, ever. I will never touch the shit again.
I'm lucky to be alive. Smoke a joint if you got to, drink a beer, just stay away from crytal/glass or any uppers or anything made with chemicals. You'll fuck your life up! And you don't want to die like that.... where you can't stand up because you lose your breath, get sweating hot, and feel like you're going to have a heart attack. Where you can't eat.....I lost 20lbs in about 1 month.
People get depressed and want to die, but nobody wants to die like that - not even suicidal individuals would want to die that damn bad, I promise.
I won't complain or ramble on any longer but I felt that I owe it to God for helping me make it through that to at least spread the word. It's dangerous - don't fuck with glass. You'll lose. Anonymous, TX, USA, May 19, 2005
A Clean Mom Now
I have been an addict for 18 years. But more than an addict I am now a clean MOM. My son is 12 years old and for the last 3 years I have been clean. Easy NO. I do it because I have a wonderful son. He knows all he needs to; to know I love him enough to stop using. I know how hard it is; I am an addict, but I made a choice. My son is the most important. I never want him to know what it feels like to have the crave, have the lust, have the feeling for meth. My wellness continues, because I believe I am strong independent woman! Be yourself and take care of the people you bring into the world. GOD BLESS! Meshauna, Henderson, NV, USA, May 26, 2005
Thank you Meshauna,
Yours is a great message to those who use...
You are making a poor choice now,
you need to make a better choice for your future,
find a reason to keep you clean,
and tough it out, it will be worth it!
Thanks,
Doug Pamenter
As the toll of Meth casualties builds,
so too will the number of Anti-Meth warriors,
born from adversity and personal recovery.
Victory will be ours. May the battle be swift.
I beat the Devil
I wanted to share my story with the same hope that everyone has, the hope that someone will read it and maybe make better decisions then I did. I have been clean for 8 months now, but it has not been easy. Let me go back about 3 years and tell you my story. I started using Meth at first just on the weekends or when I was around a crowd. at The time I started using Meth I had a job, a home, and my son’s life was going pretty good. Eventually I started using Meth all the time and lost my job, my home everything. One day I took my little boy to my mom’s and just didn’t come back for almost a year. I was so caught up in the Meth that nothing else mattered to me. I moved in with ealer after dealer and for awhile I thought i was living the life. I had no contact with my old friends or family. My family had filed a missing person alert out for me and I still did not contact them.
Things were starting to get pretty bad and I was stealing and writing bad checks with no remorse. The police were looking for me. So I decided to leave town and on my travel out of town. I got pulled over and was taken to jail for outstanding warrants. I had 5 different warrants out for me in 5 different counties. So off I went to jail. After sitting in jail clean for 2 months the old me started to come back slowly. I realized I had a problem and needed help. When I was able to get out of jail I went to a rehab. There I learned to deal with my problems without using Meth. Something I had not done in a long time and it was hard. I thought I could go and save the world but when I started going around my old friends I realized the only thing that had changed in their life was their address. So I made the decision to let them go. Today I am happy and building my life back with my son. My biggest regret is the time I have missed. Meth almost took my life, but today I can proudly say I beat the devil. Cindy, Hiram, GA, USA, June 14, 2005
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