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Teen Stories of Meth Abuse and Struggles

  • Feb

    I've Read Every Letter On Here

    Y'all got some touching words. You learn a lot from other people. Now it's time for y'all to try and learn by mine. I had a confusing childhood. My mother committed suicide when I was 5. I had 2 sisters and 1 brother. My father had another girlfriend while they were married, so after she died, he wanted to start his new life with her. But we were a burden so he put us kids in temporary foster care and I never saw my brother again. But I was lucky enough to have my sisters. I can remember walking in on one of my sisters shooting up heroin. My sister was a very depressed person, she wanted to die. She had nothing to live for, except me and my other sister. I was her sunlight though. She looked after me like I was her daughter. When I was 7 we moved back in with my father, his new wife, and her children. My step mom was then pregnant. When I was 9 my sister went on a rampage and ran away. We found her 3 days later; she had been killed and was lying in a parking lot. An autopsy showed that she had heroin, meth, and LSD (acid) in her system. From then on, we were in and out of our home, and foster care.

    I am now 14. The first time I tried meth was when I had ran away almost 2 years ago. I stopped using because my parents placed me in detox and rehab for 30 days. For the next 4 months I just smoked weed. But November came around, and my best friend was dating a guy who sold meth. She said she wanted to try it, and asked me to do it again with her. I agreed, (I never should have). Then for a little bit we used it on weekends or whenever, but after a month it turned into an everyday thing. I found out my living sister was doing meth and had shot up heroin a few times. Thinking of my past, I got very depressed and my best friend and I started using every day together. I didn't go to school, so I slept while she was in school, and when she got home we would smoke some meth, and more meth, and more. That's all we did. I did a great job with hiding it from my parents.

    Right before Christmas was here; my friend's sister was coming to town. She's 16 and she wanted to try some, so we let her. We were used to smoking 20-30 bowls in a day, easily. We weren't thinking that she shouldn't have that much. The next day she started hallucinating. She ran into the living room crying and saying help me. She told us that the room burst into flames and she saw the devil. We thought it was hilarious, until a little while later, she came and got us and showed us that she cut all the computer cords. She said it was because they were all catching on fire. Then she tried to tell us that she saw bombs and little pink wires all over the house, and at any moment they would go off. I was annoyed so i had my now ex-boyfriend come to get me. Twenty minutes later my friend called me and begged me to come back so I had my ex take me there. When I walked in, I saw my friend in tears in the kitchen, and her sister was sitting on the table with no pants on. I began to cuss her out, and I told her to show me where she saw the bombs, but she said she couldn't walk on the ground barefoot because it would burn her feet. She proceeded to freak out, and then she broke 4 of her grandma's VERY expensive vases. I didn't wanna be a part of that so I left again.

    Later on that night I came back, and me and my best friend smoked again. Well we smoked nonstop until New Years. At that point my parents wanted to drug test me. I lied to them and told them I was clean. My parents are Mormon, so they don't use drugs or drink. When our doctor told my parents that I had enough methamphetamine in my system to keep a grown ass man strung out for a year, they got mad. I got the beating of my life and my dad told me he hated me. It really hurt because he's always called me daddy's little girl. My family turned their backs on me, but my sister didn't. She is 20. She was talking to me about my problem and hers also. We smoked together that night. After that I was clean for about a week, and she was clean for only a day. I hadn't been able to hang out with my best friend for almost 3 weeks but just the other day; I was in a situation where one of my sister's old dealers was hanging out with us. He pulled out his pizzle as we call it (glass pipe) and he asked if we wanted some. My sister accepted, and so did I.

    Today is March 6 2004. Five years ago today, my sister died from drugs. In two days, my mom will have been dead for 9 years. I am almost graduated from high school. My parents trusted me again and it felt great. But I started back up, and I can't lose everything that I'm doing. I'm going to be attending college in 2 months, so being 14 and getting that far, I've worked really hard. But I can't stop again. I keep smoking and smoking, and when I'm in the house, I snort in my bedroom. It's sad to look at people like me and realize that we are the youth of America.

    When we are the adults in this world, look what our children will look up to. There have been many occasions where I have gotten a call from my sister's husband (who, might I add, got her addicted to drugs, and abuses her) and he tells me that she's in the hospital from overdosing. I am so confused. I never had a stable mom to give me advice. My father won't give us advice on life, and he wasn't there for almost 4 years of my life. I think that I have nothing or nobody to quit for. But sometimes, when I'm in one of those moods, I think about all that God has given me and I break down and cry because so many people have so much less than I do. I shouldn't take advantage of it. Every time my phone rings, and I see my sister's husband's number, my heart stops. I'm afraid he's going to tell me she's dead one of these times. I was born with heart problems, and doctors have told me that if I didn't stop using drugs, I could very easily die. I feel so awful because my best friend is now injecting meth. She smoked herself silly too. She called me one day and told me she didn't know where she was, didn't know who she was with, and she didn't remember her name.

    I was sober for a day about a week ago and I wanted some meth so bad, that I was about to pawn my real mother's wedding ring. I didn't, but I began to shake and have convulsions. It was so friggin scary. My step mother always tells me that I don't realize how bad meth is. I have an uncle who we call Pirate, who has been using meth for about 30 years. He's lived on the streets and all that. He told me that meth is the worst drug out there and he doesn't wanna see me doing it. But for some reason, even with all these people telling me to stop (there are others besides them) I know I should, I want to, but I can't. I guess it's because I think that nothing TOO bad can happen to me as long as I am careful. I like the way meth makes me feel. I don't have anything important going on right now, but I've been constantly doing this drug for a year or so and I can't stop. If anybody out there has any advice, you have no idea how thankful I would be for it. I don't have very many people that I can get good advice from so if anyone out there knows remotely how I feel, or wants to help me, please do. It won't mean much to you but it would mean the world for me. Thanks y'all for reading this long ass thing and y'all have a good day, and God Bless.


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