DOSE:

smoked

Methamphetamine

(daily)

BODY WEIGHT:

120 lb

When I first started doing meth, I used to snort it. About a line every few months when I was bored with my friends and we needed a rush. Nothing that interesting happened except me feeling cool. For the first time in my life I wasn't the sweet and innocent littly daddies girl. I was a rebel! I was doing drugs! So I would snort a line...Probably about 50 cents worth, and get tweeked for days. That's all it took, one line. I would stay up and jump around like and idiot trying to find something to entertain myself with. That was when I was about 16.

I stopped doing it for a while because I had no cravings. It was just something to do when I needed to look cool. Then I started hanging out with some local gutterpunks. They were the staight edge kind. They told me the biggest truth I had ever heard...Meth ruins your soul. I have never said anything as true in my life.

When I was a high school senior I started doing meth again to spice up my dull life. Just lines. Then I met this boy, brandon. He had never done meth before...What a waste. He only smoked weed, something I had never tried before. So when he smoked me out, I had to return the favor. I went and got teener for us and we smoked out of my first bulb. A hollowed out light bulb. It was great. I had never smoked meth before and it gave me such a greater rush. Me and brandon stayed up all night talking and having the deepest and most philisophical conversations I had ever had. It was amazing how interested we both were. We stayed up for a few days just hitting out bulb until the teen was gone. By that time we were ready to sleep.

Me and him started going out and for our anniversary present, all I ever wanted was meth so we could recreate those interesting nights we had talking and letting our minds run free. Every fight we got into was calmed with some meth. Then the money ran short and we got desparate...We got jobs! We both started working at mcdonalds to help pay for our habits. But damn, the morning shift. How were we ever to do that without the morning line. How else would we make it through the day.

At work and home noone knew what we were doing. Not even our friends could tell. We hadn't changed any besides the fact we spent all of our time in his bedroom hitting a bulb. We were the best and fastest working employees. Our bosses loved us. After only a month of working there, we were both given manager positions. Big mistake. We were the closing managers. Every night we stole about eighty dollars from the safe, or people's drawers, or the ronald fund. They never knew. And with that profit, we had to celebrate...An eight ball about every week.
My dealer got raided so decent meth was hard to come across. We started going through other people and getting really shitty meth. I started to get really sick all the time and getting horrible shooting pains in my stomach below my rib cage. It got so bad all I could go was hold my stomach and scream. Bad batch.

I was sick and tweeked out at my graduation. It amazed me that I was a methhead yet still graduated with honors and a 4.0 Gpa at the top 3% of my class. It amazed me so much it was kinda an insperation. If I could be on meth and still do this well, then there must not be anything wrong with it. Or so I thought.

I always hated those people who blamed their problems on drugs. I thought it was a cop out. Only the weak minded did that. If you cant control your mind and actions on drugs, than you shouldn't be doing them. It gave everyone on the drug a bad name.

I got pregnant. Not a good thing. I didnt want it...My father would kill me. So I tried to get rid of it the only way I knew how. I smoked an eight ball of meth to myself. I wasn't sure if that would work so I had an abortion. Brandon was devistated. So I told him a lie. I told him the kid had died because of the meth and I needed and abortion to get it out of me...Just like a miscarriage. That was an even bigger mistake. He started cursing my beloved meth and quit doing it. It had killed his baby in utero. But meth had not done it. I couldnt stand him bad mouthing my friend. But I still never told him the meth had not killed it. To cope with the loss, I got him doing meth again, just not as much.

In the summer, I signed the lease and got us an apartment. That was the worst mistake of my life. It just so happens that we moved into the worst apartments in the area...New horizons. It consisted of 3 different apartment buildings. About 15 apartments in each building. Total apartments not on drugs, 1. The 55 building, the biggest coke dealer in the city. The 65 building, the largest week dealer. And my building, the 75, we meth dealer who held down the entire city for it's crys. Everyone in my building was addicted to meth, everyone. The day we moved in we were a target. My leasing agent, an old friend from our mcdonalds days, let us pay our down payment in coke. She was a puerto rican and so was brandon. They had the same last name. And since she just adored brandon, she introduced him to all the dealers, claiming him as her son. That provided our safty...And our hook up.

Since we were both teens living alone, our apartment became the local hang out. Everyone was there all hours of the night. And since we were the hosts, we charged in meth. The huge dealer would come over and throw eight balls at us. He introduced us to smoking out of a dick and we never went back. We never slept. All we did all day was smoke. All day long. I never left my apartment unless I was going to buy more lighters. I started doing more meth in one day than I had ever done in my life. And it was all free. I never pass up free drugs.

The dealer grew fond of me so he paid my rent, bought us food and whatever else we asked for. And we never had to do anything in return. Well, except for putting up with his sexual advances. I never did anything with him but he liked to try. I hated that. And he was a huge tweeker so he had a temper. If he didnt get his way, he would take it out on brandon. Threatening him and claiming we owed him money.

Three hundred dollars a day. Everyday. For three months. I slept maybe once every two weeks. I eat even less. I would forget to eat. All I did was clean. And write. And take showers. I had the cleanest damn apartment in all the city. I wrote the most amazing stories and had the most profound life altering thoughts. I started getting very spritual and every enlightened with soul searching and introspection. My bath tub always sparkled. I would sit there everyday scrubbing it with a scrath pad for about two hours everyday. I would clean my carpet by hand with a wash rag and a bowl of water. My furniture was rearranged every day. When my house was clean enough, I would beg my friends to let me clean theirs. And I did to keep myself busy. Because if I was not cleaning, I was picking at myself. Brandon would make me go to bed and I would stay up for hours picking at every little bump on me. I would pick at my freckles until they bled. My arms and legs and stomach still bear the scars. I got so bad they had to duct tape socks to my hands so I wouldnt pick at myself.

Brandon slept less than me. And he was always so stressed. He started beating me daily. It was because of the meth. Everytime he would slam me into the wall, I would be focused on his eyes. It wasnt him in there. It was nobody. His soul had long ago left just a body there. He had no regret. He had no emotions. And all I could think about is the punk who told me meth kills your soul. It was so true.

When you are on meth, you don't care about anything or anyone. I pride myself on being a very smart individual. Completely in control of my mind. Drugs would never control me. That was before I realize I was a fucking meth addict. Three hundred dollars a day, of course I was addicted.

Eventually the beatings got really bad. I was bruised and bloody all over. I was so strung out I started hitting back. And the day I did, he called the cops on me. I had tried that before but was terrified I would go to jail if the learned of the meth. But that bastard called them. They came and saw me bloody and him with only a scrath. So they arrested him and I was evicted. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.

I was too ashamed to tell my dad so I didnt. I had nowhere to go but that wasnt a problem. My dealer took care of me. He got me a hotel room every night for two weeks. And all I had to do was sit back smoking the glass dick while his little whores smoked the real one.

After two weeks of me being missing, my dad got so scared. He was out searching for me everyday and he finally found me at my old apartments. My leasing agent told him all about my addiction. So had my friends. He begged me to go to therapy but I declined. No stranger could help me. Instead, I moved to north dakota. I was cut off. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I stopped cold turkey...Something I always prided myself in being able to do. I never had the physical signs of withdrawal. I only had the mental and still do. I would dream of doing meth every night. I still crave it. But I havent done it since october. Im sure if I was offered it again, I would do it in an instant. Because I am stupid and addicted. I just want to do it one more time for old times sake...But I know that will be what I say everytime I do it and pretty soon I will be back at new horizons.

Meth taught me a lot about life and about people. When you are tweeked out, you see the other side of people. The evil side. The side they never wanted anyone to see. But what do you expect when you havent slept for months. They get extremely anal and want to kill you for the slightest things. I dont want to preach against meth thought. I think everyone should try everything for themselves. You cant preach against something you have never tried. Yes, meth is bad. If you missuse it. When I was using in moderation, it was amazing. I learned so much about my mind and soul. It's just when I got stupid and let the meth control me that was bad. But if you stay strong minded and realize the meth will take control if you do too much, you will be fine. Its a great tool for enlightenment if you are smart and know what's to come. Just dont get stupid like me. Know you will get addicted and when you start to question you are addicted, you are. So stop. It doesnt take much...But if you are educated before hand, you will know the warning signs.

When you start to get violent, stop. When you are scrubbing your tub daily, stop. When you realize you havent eaten in a few days, stop. When your body is covered in bumps you created, stop. When you are combing through your carpet for a tiny rock to calm your cravings, stop. When you have no money for anything, not even a soda, stop. When you have hundreds of dead lighters and broken cigar tubes everywhere, stop. When you are evicted and living under a bridge, begging your old employees for scraps of food and spare change, stop. When you know you have hurt all those people who love you, stop.

Exp Year: 2000	ExpID: 5150
Gender: Female
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Jan 11, 2002	Views: 30,340
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Methamphetamine (37) : Various (28), Addiction & Habituation (10), Retrospective / Summary (11)