Letters from Crystal Meth Users

• Feb
  09

  Meth Is Like an Old Boyfriend

  Meth is like an old boyfriend. Once you have really let it go. And before you are fully into someone else - you get flashbacks and memories. Sometimes missing it and sometimes hating it. Since I have now cut all my ties. It's weird, when I remember people and things we did, I get this feeling unlike any other memory. And no matter what face or what time I am thinking of - there's always the same feeling. Partly fear and partly empty and distant, maybe cause I moved away. And even more, I'm not sure how to describe it, maybe you already know.

  It's weird, it's like I have forgotten the calmness, I once loved from it. Blowing out that cloud and easing more comfortably back into my chair. Yeah, I can use the words to describe it, but at first I could close my eyes and feel it. I've smoked the shit once since October of 2002. It's just interesting to me how the longer you stay away how the picture fades into a rainy day. I feel so betrayed by the man that brought it into my life, I know that it was my choice, but he shared it with me only the second time we met and throughout my whole experience. I had only bought the shit five or six times. He was always there with it or bringing me to it.

  Eventually we became really close and he was sleeping (well- staying) over almost every night. I couldn't get him to go away. I feel as though he drained the vitality from me. I wonder why it was only this week that I told him. I didn't want him in my life anymore. I feel my safety was taken away, all hours of the night our little tweeker friends out on the prowl, stopping by my house, us stopping by their house, running into them at gas stations... A world I was sucked into, and me, the only one in college.

  At first I loved it, such intriguing souls they were. Unlike the average frat boys and business majors I was surrounded by. I would love to stay up doing my art projects, run out meet up with them and go to anitch, and sit calmly in utter peace talking about everything from the heavens to those feelings people have but never analyze. I remember we would call it pipedrunk. The first time I hit the bong, oh my god, the feeling. After hitting it every other day, well it changes. But, eventually it all caught up.

  The more I did, the more the calmness, turned into wackiness. At first those ten pounds I lost, shit I looked good and I felt good but then I would go without eating anything for days, and I would get these intense head rushes and wouldn't be able to see even with my eyes open. They would only last a few seconds, but looking back- to think of what I was doing to my body and how I would laugh about it with them. The sick thing is I enjoyed those rushes of chills throughout my body.

  Why didn't he see what was happening to me and why the Fuck didn't he care. Why after my parents had to come pick me up - delusional, not showering, sleeping or eating - curled in a ball in my roommate's room hearing voices nonstop. They took me home to a mental hospital. Didn't do the shit for three weeks, then I came back, and there he was encouraging me to go to our "buddies" house. There I was smoking the shit again.

  Of course I wanted to (unbelievable, I know), but - I mean I realize he had a problem with it too; but never did I introduce it to someone and never would I smoke it with someone knowing they were in the mental ward from it. Well, that makes me stop to think. I was smoking it with him and he would come through and I would be like where's the chardonnay? But, you know how some people seem they can hang, even though it is hurting them physically. It just doesn't seem to mess with their mind like it did mine.

  I mean not everyone hears voices. I even told him I have a schizophrenic uncle. I really thought I was schizophrenic. I watched the movie - A beautiful mind when I was first starting to heal and I was convinced. Noise makes it worse. All the little messages in the movie - anyway - I'm sorry but I am getting in touch with this anger and hatred I have towards him.

  I'm excited to move again, and get back into school and fill my mind with new memories and new people. Who value respect and love and don't live in the clouds. I never thought I would say this. But I really don't ever want to do that shit again, I never want to remember that feeling after blowing a few clouds, never want to think I smell it in the shower or dream that I am smoking it. I know not to put myself around it. I just hope it's not in front of me again.

  Isn't it weird that I can say all this hoop law and then question if I would hit it-just once- or two or three times. I'm just consternated by it. Well, actually I am too afraid of insanity now. I really feel I would puke it up. But if that shit didn't make me crazy sometimes I think I would still be smoking it. So I guess in a way its good it did.

  Hope you guys are doing well, releasing your past and that your dreams and thoughts are overflowing with new beauty.
  
  C

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  Posted on February 9th, 2011

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