Letters from Crystal Meth Users

• Jan
  29

  Whatever You Call It, I Did It

  This is my personal true story. I have been a meth addict. Some people call it crank. HBO did. I called it speed, dope, and crystal methamphetamine. I am 22-years-old. As of the moment I'm committing this to the written word, I am addicted to alcohol. Keep reading if you want to. I'm not a total idiot sometimes but I am still alive which is saying something. Most people who use are dead before they make it to old. There are a few who live longer than you'd think they would. But most of us burn out too soon to live it up. I'm not entirely sure I'm lucky. All I know is, I'm alive. And I feel that I need to give warning. I knew nothing about drugs that prepared me to what could happen. And if I reach one single, solitary person by writing this, maybe I'll have made up for a tiny part of the evil I know I am part of still. Even though I've been clean, meth free for a while now. It's destroying my brain still. It has caused me to do an incredible number of things no rational mind would consider doing. A mind altered by meth is no longer a rational mind. And to my dismay, to my fear, to my disappointment, and to my despair, neither is my mind.

  I cannot trust the thoughts that come into my head. The choices I made abused the gifts I was given by birth. And if you understand that, you know the sorrow, hopelessness, the exhaustion and the total loss of life that comes about because of it. This was not supposed to sound depressing. Know this. Use meth, and nothing, nothing, not one solitary single thing that used to bring you pleasure, happiness, or even just a smile to your face will ever do so ever again. Use meth, and I won't dream of judging you for it. Use meth, and just know that you are consciously eradicating all that's good and pleasurable in your life forever. I won't even blame you for not listening to these words. I sure as hell didn't. I didn't want to. And I used pounds of the shit. At the end, I was smoking more cut than dope. My throat swelled up so that I couldn't breathe anymore. I had been "Up" for two weeks. And I knew I hated the chemicals that hit me with that crap. But that didn't and doesn't change the addiction, now does it? I want it every day, every fucking minute. No one can say different, without lying. That is just the way it deals but sometimes hope will penetrate. And I hope to God that I can prevail. I am not without help. Like I said, I'm lucky, blessed, etc. I have two parents who love me, maybe even more than I love meth. I've got a boyfriend who says he loves me more than life itself. And I love him that much if not more. I have two sisters. I have a brother. I am the oldest and I fear wasting a single moment with them. But still I long for some everlasting dreamless sleep. Someplace that I'm not scared. Somewhere I am not 'less than'. I'm not finished with this yet. My attention span is. I'll continue soon.
  Jennifer

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  Posted on January 29th, 2011

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