i am a recovering meth addict. this is my story.
the first time i tried meth, i was tricked into it. no, i'm not saying i didn't want to do it, cuz of course i did. what i mean is that i was under the impression that i was about to snort a line of coke. but it burned, and it less than five minutes, i felt like i was having an orgasm in a sense...and i wanted more. after that session, i didn't sleep for two days, and found the strength to pull myself away from it.
that is...until i was reacquainted with the demon a year later, by a "friend".
i've always been attracted to drugs, addiction, things of the sort. all of my greatest heroes were drug addicts. Jean-Michel Basquiat, Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, Edie Sedgwick. in a sense, i wanted to be those people. when i was 11, i was introduced to cocaine, before anything else. for 5 years, i struggled with an on again, off again relationship/addiction to it. i accompanied it by smoking weed, drinking 40s, eating mushrooms, and i even shot up heroin, twice.
when i turned 16, i moved out of my hometown, across the country, which is where i live now. my mother wanted to create a better life for me, because she knew of my habit. but things got worse. i was okay for a few months, but it was only a short time before i met the right, or wrong, people who would give me the connections to get whatever i needed. i started back up on coke, after being clean for about 6 months, except for the occasional toke of weed. so began the on again off again relationship with drugs.
i fell in love, i thought that would fix it. he tried to help, subsequently failing each time. i would run away from home, from him, and disappear for weeks, returning only to shower, eat and get clothes. the day after i was "tricked" into doing meth, he came to my rescue. i came down in his bed, and i was clean from then on.
or so i thought.
one year later. i met my neighbor. she seemed great. she smoked weed, which i've always done regardless, it helps me calm down. i was having trouble in my relationship. she offered to help.
the first time i smoked meth, i was instantly hooked, and couldn't get enough. i left him. it made me forget about everything that was stressing me out. it made me truly happy. she and i would sit and talk for hours, about everything. but when the supply ran out, we needed more. we'd go all over town from house to house of tweakers she knew that could hook us up fat, and free. i never paid for anything. she did it all. i was in a state of bliss for a while. constantly high, always awake, always happy. i'd write poetry for hours, half of it not making any sense. i lost 20 pounds (mind you, i'm only 5'1" and i weighed 115 at the time). i met the worst people, though at the time they seemed like my best friends. when she got kicked out, i let her stay with me, my mom was on vacation, it seemed perfect. soon all these tweakers were swarming my mom's apartment, and i couldn't control them. so i sat back and smoked. and smoked and smoked and kept on going that way, constantly high, ignoring my reality. i slowly became miserable. i realized that a lot of my clothes were going missing. they were stealing from me, and i didn't even know it. i was too wrapped up in my own little tweaked out world to realize it. i had sex with people i barely knew, and all addicts know about sex on meth. but something told me to stop...my body started rejecting the meth. i began throwing up everytime i hit the pipe.
i was pregnant. worst case scenario is now in full blown action.
my mom came back from vacation, i told her my situation, and she kicked me out.
operation homeless. WTF? i'd slept in staircases before, but only because i didn't wanna go home, or was too drunk to remember where i was so i stayed put. now i couldn't go home. struggling to stay clean, i slept from tweaker house to tweaker house and a few times slept out on the streets. i tried not to get high, but i wanted to so bad, despite the vomiting everytime i hit. i didn't know who the baby's father was. i had no idea. at one point, i didn't even care. my M.O was to get high and possibly end up miscarriaging.
i almost OD'd...it was my first time smoking meth out of a bong. and on top of that, the stuff was strong. i took one hit, literally felt my heart stop, and i passed out. i had no idea how long i was out, but when i woke up, i was still in the same place i was, and everyone around me was still getting high, not even acknowledging that i had passed out.
i made up a plan after a that point. i wanted to get clean. so...i would lie to some guy i slept with that i knew had feelings for me, tell him the baby was his, and manipulate him into letting me live with him for a while, until i figured everything out. well that plan worked, and i began living with him and his family.
this is how i kicked meth. by lying, and manipulating. but i had to do what i had to do.
while i was living with this guy, i came to find out that he was an alcoholic. he would drink almost every night, come home wasted, and start up a screaming fest with me, for no reason. at one point, i got so stressed out that i walked out of his house barefoot, left all my belongings there, and just kept walking. didn't know where i was going. he had to chase me down and beg me to come back. i made up my mind to leave him. it was all a lie anyway, and i was tired of living it. i called my ex, the one i left for meth, and he was there, right away. i packed up my things, and went to live with him.
i eventually decided to have an abortion. i could not live with myself if i were to give birth to a meth addicted child, and i could barely support myself at that point, so that's what i decided to do, between me and God. after the abortion, i got a steady job as a waitress, started making enough money to where i could actually support myself, and got my own place.
today, i have a better job working in an office at a warehouse, i have my own apartment, and i am still in a relationship with him. the one i hurt, the one i chose meth over, the one who was always there. and over all, i am clean. i got rid of that demon, the demon that eats away your soul. i know my story isn't as serious as a lof of addicts', but i still went through a lot, and overcame it, coming out stronger than ever.
i love my life now. and to everyone out there who reads this, meth is a monster. but it's not a monster so strong that pure will can't get rid of. and God. God is, and always will be, the answer to everything.