Everyday is a struggle, Everyday is a new win.
Everyday I beat her, Everyday she runs away.
Her name is Methamphetamine, Meth for short.
I had left her, She wants me back.
Everyday I tell her no, Everyday she tells me that she loves me so.
She loves my pain, She loves my weakness.
She loves to try and control me. I have beat her, I have seen her abuse.
I don't want her back, But she is a powerful mistress, One that only time can kill.
Meth took my life, If you are using, It will take yours too.
Keep away from her, If you want to live.
My name is Michele, I am 35 yrs old and a recovery meth addict. I have not touched meth in about 6 yrs but I have been totally clean for 2.
I spent most of my early 20s on speed and then had a 2 yr relapse when my son was 2, that which I am still learning to forgive myself. I was fortunate my family compensated as best possible.
I feel God or what ever higher power is out there led me through to sobriety with minimal consequences, no police records, no diseases and thanks to good genes I still look fairly young for my age.
I did lose a good lot of my teeth, but thanks to my mother I was able to fill the spaces. I kinda skipped the meetings and 12 steps and brushed everything under the rug.
However now I realized that it is my turn to give back and I am presently in school studying to be a drug counselor. I hope I will be able to help others in their struggle and lead them to recovery.
SF-Jaye
(Written in the fall of 2001) Part 1
I am a methamphetamine addict. It would be more precise to say, " I was an addict." I quit using September 14, 2001. I am very ashamed of what I did for five years. It has taken its toll on me and millions of others. I was using one to two grams of glass per week intravenously. I am now in an intensive outpatient program. I go to therapy everyday, individual counseling on a weekly basis and medical psychiatric counseling every other week. Meth addiction is very difficult to control and nearly impossible to stop.
Three big factors led to my initial use. These factors are not meant to be excuses because there is no excuse.
One, I had recently been fired from a job I loved. My employer and boss retired. My boss's son inherited the business. The son fired nearly everyone. I took it personally and it hurt my pride and sense of self-worth immensely. I felt worthless.
Two, my wife was going through some severe physical problems that were undetected. She had thyroid and diabetic problems but refused to see a Dr. All I knew was that she deplored any intimacy, made excuses for not having any sex, gained weight and lied to me. I thought she was getting ready to leave me. By this time, I'm feeling defeated.
Three, my best "Friend" says "I've got something to give you energy when you go workout at the gym." Not wanting to be a square or uncool person, I decided to try just a little. thinking, "Just a little bit won't harm anything."
It began with just a little bit once in awhile. Then every weekend and eventually everyday. I worked as a professional and kept my usage hidden VERY WELL. I began living two lives. My normal, professional and family life, and my clandestine, after hours life of depravity, insanity and denial.
For years, I told myself, "You can quit any time you want. You're not hurting anyone. Not dealing, not selling, not cooking, not influencing others. You're OK." I lied about everything. Especially about control of my addiction. I reasoned that I must be OK since I go to work everyday, pay my bills and look the part of a good person. Good hygiene, clean clothes, regular haircut etc. But my head was full of Meth induced perversion and despicable depravity.
Rehab can be a positive experience. I'm in a rehab program and I'm learning a great deal about reality. It's more than learning how to quit drugs. When a counselor asks "How do you feel?" they don't allow rehearsed answers from Dear Abbey. But they search into places that identify the causes of addiction - not just the symptoms. Like most of life, what you get out of it depends on how willing you are to do what needs to be done. Right now we need encouragement and love more than anything. I have learned a great deal from my rehab and I'd love to share. It is a VERY fragile time of life.
I entered the program on my own. I had tried to quit many times and finally realized what A LIAR I was. I began the first week in July 2001. I slipped up twice. The last time, I did a quarter gram of glass the Friday after the terrorist attacks. I've been clean since then. I pray to God and hope to heaven that I stay clean forever. It is very VERY difficult. I have exceptionally good counselors. They know every lie, every scam, every excuse ever used by drug addicts. Sometimes I feel they are overly mean when they make us clients feel so ashamed and guilty but ultimately that is what it takes to defeat this addiction.
We have random urine tests. They are not scheduled or announced ahead of time. We may be in a meeting when suddenly a staff member comes in with a box of labeled bags containing a plastic jar and leads us one by one to the restroom to get the Urine Specimen. They check for Amphetamine, Cocaine, Opiates, Marijuana, and Hallucinogenics. Stay clean or stay away. For those who are not earning a good income the program is low cost or free. Honestly, I feel very fortunate to be in this because I was seriously trapped in my addiction. I was desperate. Big Time.
Among the things I've learned:
• You won't get any more out of the program than you're willing to put in to it.
• Recovery is humiliating. You can't be "cool" and go through successful recovery.
• "You'll lose face or lose your ass. Take your pick."
• You're not responsible for your addiction, but you are responsible for you recovery.
• Meth addicts forfeit all ability to love.
S.T.O.P. Outpatient rehab
http://www.ucsf.edu/ghpsych/htm/progdesc.htm#STOP
is the web site. The program I'm in is called S.T.O.P.
Stimulant Treatment Outpatient Program.
Quitting Crank after five years of daily use is really difficult. There are moments when I feel it just isn't worth it. Sometimes I think it would be so easy to run out and cop a half-gram of glass and feel good again. Instant feel good. Then I come to my senses and realize that I danced the dance and now I'm paying the Piper (or fiddler). The last time I shot my arm full of crank was on September 14, 2001. I am determined I will never do it again. By now I'm sure that there may be some who read my posts and get sick of it. OK, I can't blame you, but it does an awful lot of good for me. Just writing this stuff gives me another edge in the encouragement category. I have friends in rehab who deal with it in different ways. That is also OK. But pounding this stuff out on a computer helps me to increase the number of clean days behind me. Meth addiction is the epitome of selfishness. One in thirty addicts in a treatment program will stay clean. I fully intend to beat those odds! It takes as long to recover as it did to quit. For example: If you used two years, it takes two years to recover.
Look at the left letters going down - DENIAL.
Don't
Even
kNow
Its'
A
Lie
God is merciful.
Although meth affects everyone in a very diabolical manner, there are some subtle and some not so subtle differences among individuals. For example: I recently read a number of posts at the "KCI"? message board and found that many users have skin problems. Then I checked some friends who are in my rehab group and found that it is not uncommon. The problems are usually imaginary parasites or other psuedo-hallucination type difficulties. I never encountered this. I had a lot of trouble with my mental state of being regarding sex. I would fantasize and allow my inhibitions to decline steadily. Although I was careful about staying away from actually acting out these fantasies, I realized also that even the mental deviancy was quickly destroying my ability to think in a decent and rationale manner in my straight life." I knew I was in big trouble but it was a lot more fun lying to myself and everyone else. I'd look in the mirror and say, "What a loser!" then go cop and say so what, " I can quit any time I want."
Part 2
Hello my friends,
I'm a recovering meth addict in rehab. I started visiting this Board and Chat room in the late summer of 2001. It has been a very real and very important part of my recovery. There is a zeal and passion for those affected by this insidious chemical. For those of you have been, or are addicted, You are fully aware of its power to totally own you, to imprison your soul and keep you from showing up for your own life.
Those of you who think it is easy to "Just Say NO," I guarantee, that for most, quitting is about the most difficult task a person could attempt. Once the drug has enslaved the user, the addict will easily decide that death is a better option than living without the drug. That may seem strange and bizarre to a normal person but to the addict, meth is the only thing in life.
Now, I am crying in my soul for the families and loved ones who are affected. Today, a couple fathers came on board pleading for understanding and help. Last nite a young teen age boy came looking for help for his brother whom he loved dearly. A few nites ago a husband came into the chat room, devastated about what he discovered his wife and mother of his children was doing to get meth. These people are innocent souls who have been viciously attacked by the fate and hate created by meth addiction. Two of my best friends just told me how they slipped after months of clean time. I've never been much good at cryin, but I'm learning.
The women's stories are more numerous and more tragic. If I'm learning anything in this recovery, it is no more prominent than the fact of destruction and pain and how much I feel for these people.
Here is a bit of 'my story.'
I was on a five year meth run. Three things contributed to my use at the beginning.
1. I lost a job I truly loved. A job I had dedicated my life to. It was incredibly painful and totally destroyed my self-esteem.
2. My wife was having some medical problems and neither of us were aware of it. She had hypothyroidism and is now on medication but at the time, we didn't have any knowledge about what was happening. All I knew was this. She was always complaining about being tired. She avoided intimacy. She showed absolutely no interest in me as a sexual partner. We argued over little things and seldom agreed on anything. There was no closeness at all in our relationship. I thought she may be getting ready to leave me. This increased my low self-esteem and brought me deeper into an already abysmal valley of depression.
3. I was a fitness enthusiast and spent a good deal of time working out. So when a 'friend' offered something that would help increase my physical stamina and help eliminate depression, it seemed like it might be a good idea. So I did a line, a few days later, another line. And that's about all it takes. A year later I was using daily. Two years later I was injecting it a couple times a day. I was VERY VERY careful to conceal my usage from everyone. I am a teacher and kept my job through the whole thing and was never caught or suspected.
After about three and a half years of use, I knew how badly hooked I was. I knew I was a slave with no escape. But I had no idea, not a clue, about any possible method of quitting. I intentionally got careless and left my paraphernalia laying about so my wife could catch me. I was hiding when it happened, but I could hear her. It was in our basement where I did it. She began sobbing and crying out to God in Prayer. It really broke my heart to hear her. But I was enslaved and had no way of breaking free.
I tried to quit, over and over. She and I would throw it away, destroy the needles etc. Time and time again. But I'd go back to it. I wanted so badly to quit. But it was impossible. I continued to use at a maintenance level. This way I could go to work and earn enough money to keep paying the mortgage, bills, and buy dope. But things kept getting worse. We decided to see a marriage counselor. I lied to her, the counselor, on a regular basis though. Then in June of 2001, I lost my job, for a reason totally unrelated to drug use. But I decided that God was going to give me a chance and I'd better jump at it. I figured I didn't have much more to lose with the counselor so I told her about my drug use. She demanded that I either get into a rehab program or she would quit being our counselor. I finally went to rehab for the second try.
It is called S.T.O.P.
It stands for Stimulant Treatment Outpatient Program
I entered in early July, had two slips, at the beginning, and did my very last hit forever on Sept. 14, 2001.
In summary, I strongly believe that the fervent prayers of my wife contributed more than anything else to my recovery. I have done a great deal of wrong. I owe her everything. Am I fully recovered? Not even. Meth addiction has no mercy, not even after the addict has quit. My days are plagued with cravings, anguish, Jonesing, desires to use and the long slow process of chemical restoration in the brain and central nervous system. The damage I have done is huge. The emotional turmoil and pain is very extreme. The rest of my days will include a passionate obsession for thanking her, pleasing her, and showing my gratitude for rescuing me from the inevitable hell and destruction that I was courting.
The party's over - I'm just trying to find my way back home. But, I'll be there soon.
Love
Sfj
Part 3
Here's another bit of my story.
I graduated from High School in 1962, then served four years in the U.S. Air Force, with numerous awards and an honorable discharge in 1966. At that time the Viet Nam war was in full prominence, the world was getting ready for hippies; Beatles and Stones dominated rock, I was searching for meaning. An idealistic youth. I was introduced to Marijuana in 1966. No big deal. In 1967, the Hippies of Haight Ashbury in San Francisco received a great deal of press from Life Magazine, Time, The Saturday Evening Post etc. Early in 1968 I was introduced to the 'other drugs.' LSD, Speed, hash, etc. I liked them and used them but didn't allow them to rule me. The idealistic portrayal of the Hippie lifestyle got a hold of me. Timothy Leary with, "Turn ON, Tune IN, Drop OUT." Others like, "Flower Children," "Make Love, Not War," "Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll." "Peace, Love and Happiness." The magnetism of it all was too strong and I left my home, family, job, motorcycle, roots etc. to come to San Francisco and be a Hippie. It was great. From 1968 until 1974 - my Hippie years. By 1971, I had entered college and was making good grades and steady progress.
In 1974, my father died and I decided to go straight. I put all my energy into becoming a good person with values, integrity, virtue and noble righteous pursuits. I continued my education, earned a Master's degree in Education Administration, joined a church and became very involved in education and religion for the next twenty to twenty-five years. In 1978, I married my wife, Karen, to whom I am still married. From 1974 until 1995, I never smoked a cigarette, never drank liquor, never used drugs, and led a totally clean life, abstaining from drugs, crime, sin, naughtiness and similar activities. In 1980, I met a friend. David was my best friend for many years to come. He and I had a great deal in common. He was an automobile mechanic and racecar enthusiast. I shared those interests with a passion. His wife and my wife were very close friends. His kids and my kids were very close friends and they are still close today. David and I would do many things together with our children, camping trips, fishing, taking the boys to the motorcycle races every weekend, baseball games, picnics and more. Our sons were classmates in school. David's kids would often stay over at our house and my kids would often stay over at their house. We were as close as family and often, even closer.
David had a good job. I had a good job. He had a good wife, so did I. He loved his family and I loved mine. He bought a house and I bought a house. We did many things with each other and for each other.
In 1994, I lost my job, but I got another within a few months. In 1995, David started using methamphetamine. I don't know why. He asked me if I wanted some. I really didn't but I wanted to stay friends so I took one line. A few days later he offered another. Then another. It didn't take long. Within a month or so of occasional use, I was hooked. David was my connection for about three years. He was using a lot more than I was by this time. We both knew how degenerate we had become but really didn't care anymore. Then David lost his job, then his home, within a few months, he lost his wife, family and sanity. By this time, I had new connections and had to battle addiction on my own. My wife knew what was going on by now. David kept getting crazier, accusing me of an affair with his wife, blaming everyone else for his problems, threatened to kill me and eventually robbed me of four to five thousand dollars worth of tools and equipment from my basement and garage. This was the spring of 2001.
In June of 2001, I got fired, found myself jobless, with two months severance pay, about six thousand dollars. Totally depressed, jobless, hopeless, friendless I went on the biggest meth binge of my life. I was sitting in my basement and realized, I am but a heartbeat away from losing everything - just like David. I wrote a suicide note and went to a rehab program. I told the intake counselor, how I felt and where I was. My wife continued to pray, never gave up, and God answered her prayers. I did my very last hit of meth on Sept. 14, 2001 - three days after the terrorist attacks. I graduated from rehab on July 10, 2002.
My E-mail: sfjaye@yahoo.com San Francisco, California
Sunshine - Sky
I was "Bubbles" of the PowerPuff Girls. "Saving the world before bedtime" was our motto. Except we didn't have a bedtime after my "sisters" Blossom and Buttercup introduced me to meth in September of 2001. I was 26.
At first I didn't like meth, or chicken as we referred to it, all that much. We'd go out to the bars and get drunk then go do meth and I'd be up for my hangover instead of passed out - yuck. But eventually we got to the point where the main thing we did was meth, and X. Then I looked forward to our weekend binges like nothing else in my life.
When I joined my new group of friends they had already been at it for a year or so and things were already beginning to unravel for them. Over the course of a year I watched lots of people spiral down into the oblivion that is meth addiction. Myself included.
Things really went downhill fast when Blossom started dating a dealer. He moved in with her, of course, and kept her dope pipe full. He would also give her rolls and GHB during the week so she ended up calling in sick alot. She started hearing from neighbors that he had people in and out of the house all day long so she started going home at lunch to check on him (and get high). Eventually it got to the point where she'd show up for work around 10, leave for lunch at 12, come back around 2, and leave for home around 4. She was a sales person so she got away with this schedule for almost 6 months before she got "laid off".
When we were doing dope us girls always had pimples. But Blossom's were the worst. At first it was just a few on her face. Then "I can't wear that shirt because my back is broke out". Then one day in the Spring of 2002 I caught her coming out of the shower. I was horrified at what she'd been hiding. Big red sores and scars all over her body. I just cried and begged her to stop - as we were hitting the bowl. This is when I got a clue that I had to stop using meth.
Things went from bad to worse pretty damn fast. Blossom's house was robbed twice. Her boyfriend had been popped twice and we suspected he had turned informant only to screw over the cops too so he went to jail. Blossom lost her phone, got lots of warnings that she was gonna lose her power and water only to come up with the money at the last minute. Had collectors calling on her car and her house payments. And had the cops watching her house. I watched her go through a $3,000 check from HUD that was supposed to put a new roof on her house and her $3,000 tax refund money as well as whatever was in her checking account. When she got fired she didn't have a penny to her name. It was the hardest thing in the world to watch.
At the same time we were watching our other sister Buttercup go down the same path. When we started she was a married mother of 3 out with the girls on the weekend. After a few months she left her husband and 3 kids and became the head dealer's crank whore. She now has the same sores all over her body and literally looks and feels like a skeleton. When I last saw her I hugged her and I swear to God it felt every bone in her body, it was awful.
So what about Bubbles? I first started trying to get out in July of 2002. I'd make it about 2 weeks and go back. It's so strange to me how you have no clue at all that you're addicted until you try to quit. Then you realize just how bad things are.
Then I started dating a guy who did it and I got back to doing it quite alot. He had convinced me I was just hanging with the wrong crowd and it wasn't the drug that was so bad, it was them. I wasn't able to quit until we stopped seeing each other so much.
I first quit dope in September of 2002. This is when things got really hard for me. The paranoia was unreal. Everyone was out to get me, people were watching me. The mood swings were horrible. And the cravings had me seriously contemplating suicide. I couldn't imagine living the rest of my life craving a drug I knew made me sick in every way.
What's so strange is that the way I was being those first few months clean you would have thought for sure I was doing drugs instead of trying to get clean from drugs. I could tell people felt that way too from the way I was treated by my boss.
I made it exactly 3 months and I relapsed. My mistake? Staying in touch with 2 people who still did dope. They knew how hard I'd worked to get clean and in the end showed me that they didn't care. My relapse lasted almost 2 months before reality came crashing down on me again. I've learned my lesson though and I will not speak with anyone who does meth, not even on the phone.
So here I am. 4 months clean. Feeling better than I've felt in almost 2 years. Thrilled to finally be free from the meth world. I don't look back on those days with any kind of nostalgia. It was a scary time. And what scares me most is that I didn't even know it until I got out of it.
Peace and Love to you all! I couldn't have done it without you. The knowledge and support I've had are priceless. Skye
Theresa
I'm Teresa. As some of you know, I had a year of being meth free. I found the old forum about a year and a half ago. I found a lot of support there. I met a lot of great people that have helped me and supported me when I had rough days. I want to thank you all for being there for me when I needed you.
After a while, I got more things going on and got pretty busy and took a break from the forum. There were times I'd get triggered reading posts. Sometimes I have to NOT even be reminded of it. I felt I needed to move on and do stuff that had nothing to do with drugs or probation.
I like the new forum and this new site too. My family is my biggest blessing too. If it were not for them no telling where I’d be now. My meth experience all began in late 1993. I would like to share my experience with you!
Welcome to all newcomers. My first experience with substances was in 8th grade, I drank beer and freshman year I got turned onto pot. I started out just occasionally using pot and alcohol. Then later on I got introduced to cocaine, which was my favorite for a while. I can’t pinpoint when I first experienced painkillers and sedatives, but I always had a tendency to self medicate. When I tried something, I knew right away if it agreed with me or not. I had times of complete sobriety from drugs and alcohol in the past, but never a whole year.
I seemed to click with others that liked the same music and shared the same interests as me. Sometimes drugs would get brought up. Anyway, one day some friends came over. We were talking about different things, listening to some good tunes. The subject of cocaine came up and then someone mentioned, “If you like coke, you’ll love this”. They broke out some meth and we, (my husband, friends and I), snorted some and wow it burned my nose like an mf, but the high was the best I had. Then I got introduced to smoking it and I was sold.
I felt like, this is it, and it was the drug of my choice for years. After awhile, I got to where I wanted it more and more. Every time I knew some was coming or we went to get some, I would get elated just knowing. I learned how to make pipes. I would get a brand new pipe made for the new batch. After being up all night and day and another night and another and so on, it would take its toll on us. We’d get in these awful fights.
When wearing off/coming down, we would hurt all over and feel like shit. There were times I wanted to quit. I would take a break from it for a few weeks but I never really had my heart in quitting for good. Well we went through some rough times, separated a couple times, almost went through divorce twice. Well summer 2001 I got arrested for possession. I almost lost my family, freedom, etc. I decided no high is worth losing everything!
Well today I?m happy to say I?m meth free and things are so much better for now. For the longest time I thought, I couldn?t go this long without it, no way. I still have thoughts of it that haunt me, but it does get better and easier with time. I?m enjoying other things in life now. It can be done. It?s not easy, but possible if someone wants to quit bad enough. I?m thankful that we have places like this to come to. There are many here who have been there, done that. Don?t give up. There is hope. There are success stories. Most of all I thank the Lord God for many answered prayers. May God bless you all, Teresa
Thomas
On July 31,2002 at 2:30pm, I walked into the Piggly Wiggly in Idabel OK to make my delivery to the store (chipman). It was my first day in OK working for a guy who broke his foot. I was supposed to be there for 4 weeks, it would up being 6 months. The second I walked in that door my eyes locked with an unbelieavbly cute girl standing at register 4. I'll never forget the look on her face. I went straight over to get a diet DR Pepper and went through her line. It took her 45 minutes to check me out. It was Faith's first day, she had started at 2 pm and didn't have much of a clue what she was doing. She was so sweet and so embarrassed. I asked her her name and she wouldn't tell me. It took me 3 weeks to figure it out.
I asked everyone in the store about her and nobody knew to much except that she didn't have a boyfriend. I went in that store everynight to do a pull up, not really, but I went to see her. She was interested in talking to me but was keeping a big distance. I sent her a dozen white roses on Monday. When I came in that afternoon she was sobbing talking to the other girls about it. She told me no one ever sent her flowers before. She also told me for the first time, that I didn't want to have anything to do with her becasue she had to many problems. I had no clue what was to come.
I always told her she was really hyper and she said I take diet pills, which I believed cause I had taken them myself. Things progressed ove the next 3-4 weeks. I went in to see her everyday, and if I wasn't doing anything, I'd be there waiting on her when she got off at 9pm.
She was always impatient but she stayed and talked. I didn't find out till later I was holding up her nightly run to the dope house. I finally got her to go out with me after about a month. I took her shopping. We spent the whole day together and the better part of $500. She still kept telling me I didn't want her. But I did want her. I found out from her roommate she wanted me to.
On our second date, we went shopping again and went to eat. That was when the big one got dropped on me. We were sitting on the bed in my room talking and I was talking sweet to her and I guess I got to her and she got this weird look on her face. She got up, went over to the chair and got her purse and pulled out a little piece of foil and just looked at it. I asked her what it was and she said it didn't matter. She got up and stood there looking at me; like ok now you know, so I'll be going.
I got up and put my arms around her and started crying. She tried to pull away saying I'm not worth crying over. I asked her if it was bad, and she said real bad, 5 yrs. It's a week or two later before she told me what it was. She had convinced herself I was the police, so she kind of kept her distance for a week or so. I guess maybe a month after she told me, she decided to do it in front of me. She told me all the time as much as she wanted to leave me alone. I was impossible not to like.
I was spoiling her rotten. Anything she wanted she got. I even gave her my new truck and took her old car, which I paid off. For a long time I wouldn't give her cash, I'd pay her bills, take her shopping but I knew she would use the cash for dope if I gave it to her. But one night she came over real upset and she asked me if Id buy her some. I gave in. From hence forth I gave in all the time. I was pretty much her sugar daddy.
She moved in with me around Novemeber. We had to go to Dallas to get my stuff and we were both sick that day. It was cold and raining. Neither one of us wanted to go but we had already paid for the uhaul so we had to. She told me she had to run see her momma for a minute and she be back. When she got back she made me a drink.
She said this will help you survive today. You know what it is. She said I'm only doing this so we don't kill each other today. I had asked her before but she was 100% no on that. She stayed away alot and tried to
only be around me when she was normal cause she didn't want me to see her like that. But we were miserable that day. The stuff wasn't any good, it didnt do anything to me, or her but we made it back. As soon as we got back she took off and didnt come back for 3 days. Left me to unload the truck by myself.
When she came back we were sitting there watching tv while she was smokin away. She threw me a capsule and said here youll feel this. I did. It was but a crumb. About enough to fill the round bowl on the bottom of a capsule. We had fun that day. Put everything up and cleaned the whole house. Faith never stayed with me all night unless I was up with her. I didnt know everything about the lifestyle yet so I didnt fully understand why she was always gone. I got wired up about once a week for the next month or so. Just for fun. I didnt crave it yet.
One day before Christmas, she got a batch of pure crystal. That was the first time she let me smoke. She got pissed at me cause I kept asking her to let me but she wouldn't. She loaded up a glass pipe and left in a huff. That was the first time i got blown up. Of course I didn't see her for 3 days again. I wanted it after that.
I got laid off the day after Christmas. Faith thought it was due to my use. It wasn't, they didnt need me anymore cause they changed the delivery system and had to get rid of someone. On top of that we were in a dispute over my expense account so it was convienient. But with no money and me now wanting to use, Faith almost left me. I was using pretty regularly now, but not getting blown.
Her friends came over all the time. She was pissed at them for giving me shit. I got another job in about 3 weeks. It only lasted 4 weeks before they laid me off. The comapny folded basically. That was about the beginning of the end. I went to Dallas for a few days just to get out of town. I owed all the bills and had no money to pay them. I ran across someone I grew up with and he just so happened to be a dopeman, which I had no clue.
I was introduced to the good stuff. I brought some back to Faith but she was so mad at me she wouldn't come home, plus she didn't believe me that I had gotten shit on my own. So I shared it with some of her friends. She believed me then after I blew up half the druggies in Idabel.
Then she was mad cause she didnt get any. So I went and got some more and she came home this time. Throughout all this coming and going we had days where she stayed and had fun with me. But she knew I was hooked on the shit and it hurt her alot. But when I started getting her the good stuff we got pretty close for a while. But I got to where I didn't want to leave her. I need to cause I wasnt going to find a good job there. But we had never been so close and I was afrraid if I did leave that would be the end of it, which it appears it was.
We got thrown out of our house and were living in the car. Actually I was in the cars she was in the dope houses. She never would take me with her anywhere. She was pissed I wouldn't go to Dallas and get a job. But one day in March, she was going to go to Dallas with me, her first time there to meet my hookup. We couldn't get a hold of him and both of us were crashing hard.
We could find any shit up there either. So we wound up in a fight in our friend's yard. She beat me up with a baseball bat. That's when I left. The cops wanted to pick her up but I wouldn't press charges against her. I didn't hear from her for about a week, but she called me to see if I was ok. We got really close again. Talked every night. We were running back and forth to see each other doing guess what. I finally got a job. We were putting the shit away for a while, but then we decided we wanted to try to stop.
She was going to move to Dallas with me. She came down on June 2nd to see me and get some shit. We had a great time, got a motel room. Smoked like crazy, were very close, and very spun too. She decided she wanted to drive back at night cause the tags were out on the truck. She didn't know I put what I put in her purse. She always got scared driving, especially if she was wired. I gave her a hug and big kiss. She told me Ill see you next Friday and I love you so much. (I got paid Friday and was gonna get a place to stay.)
She should have called me about 6 am saying she was home, but no call. I got up and went to work panicked cause she always called me when she got home. About 8:30 pm, her momma called and told me Faith had gotten picked up. She got lost leaving Dallas. I was in Waco and I headed straight back. I completely fell apart. She got caught with
6 grams, all of which i gave to her.
She swears to me she hadn't found it when they got her but it doesn't really matter. If I hadn't of done that, she may have got off with just a DWI. She's not mad at me for doing it but I feel so unbelieavably guilty. Here we are today. Its been 8 days now since I talked to her. She has to be in court next Monday at 10 am for her DWI. Still no date on the possession charge yet. Im headed to rehab, depressed as I've ever been. My Angel is out there somewhere, proabaly in a dope house using again.
I know shes scared. I know her mind is tormented. She won't talk to me; because shes using again and she knows I'll get on her. Plus she knows I've been trying to get her to go to rehab with me. So if she avoids me, she can hurt and be lonely by herself. She thinks she won't hurt me anymore, if she doesn't talk to me. I hope so much, I get to see her before court cause whenever she takes off and then sees me again she loses it. I don't want that to happen in court.
Three weeks ago when I was up there visiting her, she let me lay there and hold her almost 2 hours, something that has never happened before. She told me that I mean't more to her than anyone ever has, and that she knew how bad she treated me; but that didn't mean she didnt care. She told me how scared she was. I told her she didn't have anything to be scared about. She said I can't believe you have stuck by me through all the shit I've put you through. She said you must really love me. And I do. I fell in love with her before I knew her problems. Then I created her last problem. She's my Angel and always will be.
Update...I have started rehab now, outpatient. I have two groups a week and then one individual session. I'm trying to get a group of CMA started around here; but as of yet I can't get anyone to help me. But I'm still working on it.
Vicky
Hey I am Victoria, or Vicky; I go by both. I am 37. I have been addicted to caffeine and tobacco for years, and have also used marijuana on a regular basis for years. I have been widowed for 5 1/2 years now and for about 4 1/2 have been trying to find someone I could be happy with again. Then last year, October of 2002, I met a man who was perfect... 6'4",200 #s. Thick brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes, and the sharpest mind I had ever encountered. I mean I watched him fix everything, from lawn mowers, to cars, to electrical, to plumbing, to even a gut-shot dog. (we live in Podunk Texas) He was absolutely amazing in every way, and still is to me, though he has lost sight of that fact. The man can fix anything... except maybe himself.
The first few months were bliss for me. He was having some problems... going through a divorce, some legal problems, loss of his building business, but I was convinced that I had found a man of intelligence and integrity. He met my kids, saved the dog, won our hearts. The first date he told me that he had recently lost about 60 pounds and felt better than he had in a long time. He also introduced me to "ice." We used it every few weeks and usually either partied with friends or puttered in the barn. I thought he was feeling the same way I was about it. Fun but nothing to work for or strive for. An occasional late night. But soon we were arguing all the time and then he was telling me that I couldn't handle the meth and that our (very real) other problems were all in my head, or that I just liked to fight.
So it got to be very occasional that he shared with me, and he claimed that he was not using either, but he was always out very late and sometimes didn't come home at all. Then we decided to quit (a few times actually) and I have, but now he is home less than ever, very secretive, and leaves me stranded and things like that. Sometimes he denies use, sometimes not. His usual tactic is to accuse me of chewing on him and to just leave.
I know from this site that some come back, and I am hoping that this is still possible, and that we can regain what we had, but I have a hard time taking the apathy and the back and forth. I feel a lot more hopeful after finding this site and am hoping that the obvious abundance of character present here might help carry us both through.
