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Methamphetamine: Stories and Letters of the Hidden Costs
by Users, Loved Ones, and Parents

hey i am mal and this is my story well half
    hey i just wanted to say as i sit here and read these letters and the things they are saying it makes me cry. i used to be like them a meth head so addicted that i would count the hours till i got payed just so i could get high. i didnt care who i hurt or who it effcted i even stole from my grandma. she was always thier for me no matter what and i betrayed her trust! i am now clean almost a year i went to school to get my GED so i can be a nusre i love to help pepole. even when i was on Meth pepole used to say gurl you are so inocent why would you do this to your self? its a hard strugle evrey day to stay clean! the best advice i can give any one is get help beacuse i did it on my own which was really hard. I left my family and my freinds they are who i miss the most! you can post this if u want mabe someone will read it and say if she can do it mabey i can too~ i did meth for about 5 years it started in a room of family and freinds just do it. I figured it was the only way i would fit in but i didnt work. Thier only your friends till you run out then they dont talk to you! so stay clean it may not be easy but its better then being all gonzos for days and weeks and even months. well thank you for your time
--mal

(This letter has been moved to June section as requested...) Click here

   Ok I know i have already posted a story but, I just had to leave another. I am now 15 years old and on the verge of being in foster care 3 years. Actually 3 years on October 15. I have 2 kid brothers, David who is 12 and Daniel who is 11. I love them and they are the most important thing to me, I would tkae a bullet for them, I canould never in a million years be able to express in words how much they mean to me. I have had to sit back and watch them deal with our parents bein meth addicts for 10 years. It is so depressing telling your little brothers who are totally oblivious to the world that they are never going to be able to see there Mother again because she is running away from warrents and moved to California and abbandoned me, and my brothers to be with her just as addicte as she is boyfriend and live in a trailer. She had also left my step father while he was in prison for a year. It all got REALLY bad about 4 years ago. I was 11. Just startin 6th grade. This is supposed to be a happy time. But everyday was a strugle to get by. Taking care of my little brothers and protecting them from my paarents violent arguments. We had the police at my house at least once every month because of them fighting. They wouldnt just argue it got physical and a few times my mom had been arrested, It hurts to tell your baby brothers that "mom is just going for a trip, she will be back" My step dad was also an addict and he was in the room 24/7 un;ess he came out and that was never good news...It was for him to tkae me in the garage and ask me if I knew anythign about mom cheatin on him, and if I said no, he would say he was gonna hurt me the way she was hurting him. How was i suppoed to know if she was cheating I never talked to her. After a few months our electricy, water, phone, gas all the good stuff was gone and we were dirty, never had food, and my to top it all off if my parents didnt have meth, they were fighting. and It didnt even bother me, but then my older sister got involed, she is one year older than me and she started using, with my mother and thats when things got bad. Me and my sister got put in foster care adn my parents took my two little brothers and ran, they went to my grandmas house, they got away with it for two weeks, but my parenents not thinking got into a fight an the police came and picked up my little brothers. A few months later my dad went to prison and my mom moved to California, My dad recently got out, but fialed to meet stanrds or probations and is not back in jail temp. there is a slim chance he can get my brothers back, but explaingin to them what is going on hurts. Knowing that all of this could have been prevneted hurts super bad and I wish I could take all the pain they are feeling and endure it. I see all these episodes of cops and things of that nature and it depresses me that all these parents dont care baout they're kids. It is amazing the things that meth can do to you
--Sammy

   my name is nicole and im 28 yrs old i was 13 the first time i tried meth i loved it i loved the feeling i loved the high i loved everything that came along with being "HIGH" when i was 17 i got clean and stayed clean for 3 yrs when i was 20 i met my husband we went to a party there was alot of people smoking weed drinking beer having fun i walked into the bathroom and my friend was doing a "line" i thought to my self it is just coke not meth you can do it and not get addict again needless to say i did a "line" then i turned it to 2 then 5 then i was buying a 40 sack and i thought just this one time when monday comes i wont do it anymore well monday came and i was out of coke so i bought more and more and more pretty soon i needed a 20 sack just to get thru the day 2 months later i was buying 8ball almost 2 or 3 times a week by the time i relaized what was happening to me AGAIN i was so far in i could not get out about 6 months after i started doing coke it was not giving the "high" i wanted so one night i figured i would go out and buy some chicken (meth) put it in my pipe and stared to smoke it the feeling the smell the taste it all brang back SO many memories mostly all bad ones but that didnt stop me i contunied to smoke more and more everyday when i was 22 i found out i was going to have my daughter and i ALWAYS told myself if you ever get pregnat you NEED to stop but do you think i listend no when my daughter was bron she was addicted to chicken when i took her home the only way i could get her to stop crying was to load the pipe smoke it and then blow the smoke at her she was a 1 week old baby what was i thinking i wasnt and that was my problem i never admitted i was addicted to meth again till my daughters 2nd birthday i was sitting in the bathroom getting high when my daughter walked in and asked "mommy what are you doing?" by that time i was as high as a kite i yelled at her to get out and slamed the door in her face i could hear her crying thru the door but i dint care i was in there for like 15 more minutes when i heard my mom come to the door my daughter was still sitting there ( i didnt know it i thought she had went outside) my mom asked why she was crying and she said mommy is smoking that gross stuff and now she is mad at me i love my mommy and i dont want her to do that anymore when i heard those words come out of her mouth i put down the pipe blew out my hit opened the bathroom door and looked my baby girl straight in the eyes and said mommy will NEVER touch the stuff again that was almost 3 years ago and thanks to my wonderful daughter i have been clean ever since i have been a crack head 2 times in my life the hardest thing i have ever had to do was get clean and stay clean im not going to lie to you i stll feel the urge to get high but alls i have to do is look at my baby girl and the feeling goes away if it was not for her who knows where i would be i have been to hell and back with my addictions but i have to be honest i dont regret it it was a lesson and i learned my lesson it may have taken 2 times but i leanred it and that is all the matters i have a job ive been clean for 3 years and i still have my daughter and that is a lot to say consedering my past....
--nicole

The Story of Matthew Part II Hiting Rock Bottom
   If you ever lived with an addict, it's like living with a drama queen. It's always about them and never about you. In my story, the day I kicked Matthew out of my life..the story doesn't end there, it's only the beginning..... Matthew had come back to my home and attacked me with a beer bottle a week later in a drug induced rage. See, addicts become unpredictable and very violent. All I remember is seeing the beer bottle coming towards my face and then the next thing..the fists. He's 6'2 and I'm 5'3 that's a big differences. I fought back hard, when I realized how much danger I was in..a sudden burst of adrenaline came over me and the next thing I knew, I was beating him up. I don't agree with violences what so ever but it was like I wasn't fighting the person ...I was fighting the drug and I was saying I'm not going to let you take control away from me no more. He threating to kill me after I had hurt him. Just so you know I called the sheriff's, they did nothing for me. So I went online and file a restraining order, the age of technology. A week had passed, the house that he lived at which was only a block from my house had gotten raided. My neighbor had come over to tell me..my reaction was instant relief because I thought he needed to head down the road and hit rock bottom where he was headed pretty quickly. Now he's in Jail facing five felonies...manufacturing, intent to sell, possession, under the influence, contempt, and violating his probation. He's looking at some hard time as I can tell and I'm watching it online on my computer. It takes alot for me not to drive down there and see him which I will never do, again. There's nothing worst then seeing someone in jail that you love because when you get there it's the most humilating thing you can ever experience. The guards treat you bad because you know a criminal, it's terrible!! I tried to be his support, but no more, there's a point you reach where you just have to say no. Don't get me wrong, Matthew came from a strict upbringing, both his parents were cops. Drug use is only a symptom of an underlying problem. It could be anything in someones life from having a low self-esteem to being molested as a child. All I know is this....to me Meth is like a Demon that jumps on someone's back and won't jump off and keeps whispering things to that persons ear...things that they would never do. It's so powerful it controls, and finally destroys leaving an aftermath of victims and love one in it's path. So if you know someone and your trying to be a support system for them that's fine, but you need to let them hit rock bottom and stop rescuing them from themselves because your only delaying there happiness once they know they need help.
--Anita

Life after meth?
   This seems to be a question I seem to be asking myself alot lately. I am a 27 year old recovery meth addict, well I did what ever drug was around, my drug of choice was meth. I was an IV drug user and just found out that I contracted Hepatitis C while I was out there sharing needles with whoever. I have really and truely did the whole jails, institutions, and almost death thing, a couple times for each. On December 16th, 2002 I decided that I was going to get high and I cooked some dope, my boyfriend at the time turned me in and I went to jail. At this time I had three children which the state took from me. I was sitting in this little tiny one man cell, asking myself "What have you become?" I had overdosed twice, pretty bad. Ran drugs, guns, and been in two long term treatment centers. I had three beautiful children that state took from me due to my addiction, yet I couldn't not leave the dope alone. I was at one time a college student, mother, 4.0 grade point average. I just could not believe what I had become. Something was not right, yet I still was not willing to admit, I was addicted.
   So you say what happened? On January 22, 2006 I celebrated three years of sobriety. I am so grateful to be alive. I have also gained full custody of all three of my children back. I am now a substance abuse counselor, I see what meth can do on a daily basis. This drug is not prejudice, it take families, kids, women, and men. It effects people who are not even using the drug. Meth is definately an epidemic.
   To all of you family members who don't know what to do for your meth addict, this may sound harsh, but step back, what will happen, will happen. They may die or they may find sobriety. But remember you will not be able to give them sobriety, they have to want it and they have to want it bad. So bad it hurts, they have to want to put as much, if not more into recovery from this drug than they put into their addiction.
   I don't know what happened for me, I got out of jail and went to a twelve step support meeting first thing. I was scared and I did not want to use again. I needed help and I asked for it. It had been thrown in my face many times, I just shrugged it away.
   I am not saying, as I started to say earlier that life is easy being sober, completely off of everything, it sometimes even straight up sucks. But you know what I may be a single mom of three, working full time, with Hep. C. and the stresses of reality do suck. BUT MY WORST DAY SOBER, IS BETTER THAN MY BEST DAY HIGH!!!
   I don't know if this letter makes any sense, just the thoughts of a recovering meth addict.
--Sarah F.

   i started using about 9 years ago.it started with the normal weekend party thing,but it didn't take long before i started to realize i could make a little money at it.(little did i know)my weekend party thing turned to a every day thing. i showed everyone i knew my girlfriend my best of friends pretty soon i had my own little circle of tweekers .it seemed like the greatest time of my life i was on top of my GAME.but as time went on i seen what i had done to everyone my VERY best of friends were lossing everything their money, their homes,their kids.these were ppl that would have never done if it werent for me.i tried to do the sober thing and tried to talk them into doing the same but both of that failed time and time again.like i said this has been going on for about 9 years,well im in my 7 month of being sober (because i moved 3000 miles away)and they are still doing it these ppl ment and still mean the world to me but at some point i needed to save my self i wish i could have them too i know i didn't put the needle in their arm or the capsule inn their mouth but i gave then their very first and no matter how much i wish or pray i cant get it away from them.yes ALOT of times i wish i were there with them i still crave it so very bad.but even worse then that i crave they would be able to walk away from it.meth has taught me a lot in life i learned a lot of lifes lessons that i would have never learned without it a part of me grew up with it.but with those life lessons i have learned there are regrets i wish i would have never done.i love you two and i hope one day you can also be where im at without having the haunting drug on your heels.i truly did distroy their life.i just want everyone to know to can it will happen to you with every puff,sort,needle,or capsul that's one more day your wasting and chasing the high and one more your not truly living your life.
--anita

Never forget where you came from
  My name is Freddy, better known as Mark to the ones I grew up with. My story spans over about a 23 year period, where Meth was the controler of my life, emotions and lifestyle.
   I have lived, seen, and done things that most people only see in movies or dreamed could not happen, now don't take this wrong, I am just being honest about how ones life can turn when they turn their life over to such an evil drug. My life consisted of violence, hate for everyone around me and the scandoulus lifestyle. The more scandoulus the better. I've been to prison on 5 different ocassions and 3 different drug raids, but it was never enough to detour me away from drugs until this last time when I woke in the county jail. I was over 40 years old, weighed about 150 pound, and was facing a sentence that could have very well kept me in prison for the rest of my life. Not only that I gave up the chance to see my Grandmother for the last time because she died shortly after I was locked up. Now I struggle every day with the guilt of how I treated my family. They loved me so much and I gave back so little.
   During this last and final time in jail, I decided to take a different approach to how the rest of my life would end up, instead of fighting the system and looking for ways to get out of my trouble, I decided to turn my concerns towards the welfare of the community I lived in for so long, I wrote letters to every newspaper I could think of to try and get someone to hear me, at first I got no response but I did not give up so easily, I continued writting letters until I was heard. I was given an interview that ran a very big article in the daily newspaper, and I was even given the chance to do a video for high school kids about my life and lifestyle. I was taking a big chance with setting myself up in court, but it was the chance I had to take. Needless to say I was lucky! I recieved a 6 year prison sentence with a 3 year tail.
   I used that opportunity to get accepted into a drug and alcohol treatment facility in Denver Called Peer I.
   I have been clean for over 3 years now and in treatment for almost 2 years. It has been one of the hardest things I have ever done for myself, but probably the most rewarding. But I remind myself every day, that I was only a decission away from doing a very long prison sentence. So for me, not forgetting where I came from is the one thing that will help me to stay clean and on the right path. Meth is an EVIL enemy, and I once heard, keep your enemies close to you. So I do, in my mind and thoughts I will always have the reminder of where I could have been and the wonderful thoughts of how my life is now.
  I Graduate July 7th, 2006. But graduation is only a title if you don't have the sincerety in your heart to want to be successful.
NEVER FORGET WHERE YOU CAME FROM
Sincerely
--Freddy
P.S. This is a picture of me now, in front of a sign that say Peer I.

   I am a 40 y.o woman, married for 26 years (married my first boyfriend, which whom we got together at 12 y/o) We have 4 boys (ages 20 - 10) My husband introduced me to Meth when I was about 20 y/o. We used to get high just on the weekends. I had a good job working as a dispatcher in a police dept. A quarter gram used to last us both all weekend long. During the course of our life I have been physically abused by my husband, mentally abused, totally humiliated beyond belief, we have gotten our kids taken by CPS 2x. Our home has gotten raided by the police and DEA several times. (different houses, different cities) Although we have never been to jail for drugs.
--laura

The Story Of Matthew
   This is a story of how Meth Destroys Love. I'm 43 years old, and I've been dealing with an addict for 7 years, who I had loved so much. We known each other since we were in third grade. Matthew was a very handsome and sweet person always did everything for me. He is very talented. Like the others he got caught up in the meth scene. Like so many others he never discussed his drug use because I just didn't know about it. He was high strung in general and I couldn't tell the difference. It started with him not coming home for days and not calling. I would drive around all night looking for him but he never knew. Then it progressed to lying and stealing from me. I noticed things missing and at first ,I dismissed it as being misplaced. But things kept disappearing, it happen more and more until I went to the store one day and noticed a necklace on a girl standing next to me in line that looked like something I owned. I asked her where she got the necklace she told me her boyfriend had given it to her. I ask her who her boyfriend was and she told me his name, it happen I knew who he was. So I drove over to his house to talk to him. I spoke to him and he told me that Matthew had sold it to him, but what he didn't mention was he was the drug dealer supplying his drug habit. I asked if he got anything else ? he showed me everything he had sold him. There was all my things stereo's, TV's, etc... I knew for sure now. Couple days had passed, later that day he got busted in a raid at someone's house and went to Jail, the best thing that ever happen to him, so I thought. It wasn't to be true. He got sent to Rehab the second time in his life got out and six month later back on meth. I want to tell you the feelings with the people you live with who are addicts because no one ever mentions this important factor, ya, you go to al non ,but there's no help, I went. Addicts are manipulators, there so good at it, your like puty in their hands. They don't do anything unless it benefits them. They effect your psychi by isolating you first ...from your family and then ...from your friends. I always wondered why none of his friend ever came by until I ran into a few. I introduced myself to them and asked them why they never came over, needless to say , they told me that Matthew had told them that I didn't like any of his friends and they weren't allowed to come over, that I was a Bitch about it. If you read between the lines he did that so no one would think what a sweet girlfriend lets let her know what he's doing to her right under her nose. They don't want there friends to rat them out ,that's what it comes down to. You know the rest , we weren't intimate anymore, he couldn't get the darn thing to work so our sex life was taken, our intimacy, I found him spending all his time at his drug dealer 's home working construction to keep his drug supply replenished. If a love one gets protective of a person who's new to his circle take heed, he's probably there drug supplier. To many times I remember getting into arguments about this guy and knew deep inside my soul something is completely wrong here. He can't hold a job and I was supporting two people, why is it my house isn't complete and his drug dealer's is? Oh ya..I'm not supplying his drug or ...am I ? Maybe because he ran out of things to sell that I might not noticed. Let me tell you the damage I have suffered because of his repercussions. Living with him was like walking on eggshells. He was very , very negative and I was arguing all the time because he would provoke it. I didn't know if he was coming down off the drug but you can bet he was because he seem like he was angry almost all the time. This I saw was robbing me from my innocents, trust and my identity...I felt like I was becoming someone I didn't like because of his stupidity .
   God knows I prayed every night for him...and thought I have to save his soul because he's fighting a battle between good and evil and it was quit evident that evil was winning by a landslide. So one day, I snapped out of my stupor like fog and kicked him out of my house and said to him it's over!! I can't help someone that is broke this is a job for a professional and I'm not that person and I didn't want to cheat myself out of happiness anymore. When I watched him walk away it had felt like the world was lifted of my shoulder. You can only do so much but don't risk your self identity. Because in turn you become sick like them, think of it as secondary cigarette smoke. The cancer spreads, you owe yourself happiness not some ones misery. Because remember, misery loves company...... anitaacehigh@earthlink.net
--anita

Another sad story
   My name is Rachel, I have never used Meth, I never will. Even though I never even saw meth until last night, the effect it has had on my life has been devastating. Two months ago I needed a temporary apartment, and a friend of mine offered to let me move into a bedroom in his place. I did not know him extremely well, but he had dated a good friend of mine and he always seemed like a nice kid.
   I moved about half of my possessions into his apartment a few days later. I had never been there before, but it was in a pretty ok part of town and I did not think I had much to worry about. I showed up with my dog, started moving things into my room. This is when I noticed that the stove in the kitchen was covered in a white residue, there was a blowtorch and crack pipe in his room. I’ve never been a drug user, I have smoked weed and tried a few other things but I never had any interest in staying up for days.
   He hadn’t mentioned his problem, and I decided I could not stay there. I took the dog and went to my boyfriends house with everything that I could fit, I never even spent a night in the apartment. I attempted to return to Andrew’s apartment for about a month, he would be sleeping for days, always returning my calls at 5am. A few months ago this was not his life. I paid him rent, bought groceries which I guess he didn’t eat anyway. Every time I spoke to him he was asking for more money, even though I had already paid a full month for a place where I could not even stay. He became more and more abusive, threatening me, but still refusing to give back my possessions. I did not want to call the police for fear of getting in trouble myself for being involved. He accused all of our friends of stealing from him, borrowed from everyone he could trick into it.
   Finally yesterday I was able to collect my things, I have never seen anything so devastating in my life, and I am still shaking. He has lost at least 20 pounds, he was covered in sweat and even though I brought 5 friends with me to move things, he refused to put anything on besides his boxers and sat in the corner screaming and threatening to get a gun. You know those plastic storage tubs? All of my belongings had been strewn across the floor and the tubs were full of blue and green residue. My dog’s favorite bear was turned totally green. Pictures of my brothers, all of my clothes that I had not been able to previously take. My furniture, everything was destroyed. You have never seen people move that quickly, we were all crying when we got back to the cars and finally got away. We threw away almost everything.
   The worst was seeing my friend the way he was, don’t even tell me that he could be happy living like that - shaking in his goddamn underwear, convinced the fbi is after him and living in a filthy house covered in meth residue? My friends and I were all sick from being inside. I have made bad decisions in my life, we all have, but how could it get that far in a month or two? Meth.
   I’ve read some of your stories, and though you all urge to let him figure it out for himself, I hope you have some idea of how much you hurt the people around you when you do meth. I don’t know what to do for him, but I know that I will live the rest of my life terrified of all drugs, and praying that you all realize that there is more to life. My heart goes out to all of you, please please please do not put the people around you through this anymore. We care and you do hurt us, and I promise it is not worth losing your teeth over.
--Rachel

Meth Madness: The white elephant was there all along
   I am not going to give statistics; we all know it’s bad. That’s why I don’t understand why people try it even once. I am a victim of Meth. I have lost so much of my life to a dangerous, controlling drug.
   I was married eight years to a man I chose to spend my life with. We bought a house and did the things people do when they are starting their lives together. We had our first son, Colin, within our first year of marriage.
   My husband, Craig, entered into a construction partnership with someone he worked with. Business was growing and we were happy. By Colin’s second birthday we had bought a bigger house so we could accommodate our growing family. One week after Colin’s fourth birthday we had our second son, Sam.
   We were a well-rounded, strong, young family.
   Shortly after Sam’s birth Craig seemed different. He had lost weight, seemed jittery, could not sleep, and was not the same person I had married. He suffered from depression on and off throughout his entire life and I thought that was the problem. On a family vacation he told me he was addicted to meth. . I knew that street drugs were bad. But I didn’t even know what meth was, and certainly had no idea how addictive and insidious it is
   Shortly after that vacation Craig quit cold turkey and we stayed together. He had withdrawals but lived through it. He went on antidepressants and tried to live a healthy life. We even had our third son, Henry. We had three of the most beautiful boys you could ever imagine.
   Around the time Henry was born things seemed to go downhill again. Craig was never home and worked all the time, or so he told me, but we never had any money. I knew something was wrong but I could not bring myself to believe he would do drugs again. I told him the consequence of doing it again — he would lose his family.
   Two months before Henry was going to turn one year old, Craig told me he was addicted to meth and cocaine. One day he supposedly left for work, but went instead to a drug treatment facility to try to check in. There was a two-week waiting list so he came back home to wait the time out.
   The kids and I moved out of our house and in with my parents. Our home was sold and I began looking for a full-time job. My life had completely changed in the blink of an eye.
   The day Craig admitted his addiction I became physically ill. I knew this was it — I had lost my husband, my children had lost their father, and we all lost our home. Craig lost the most of all. He lost his family and so much of himself. His self-respect and dignity were replaced with shame and guilt.
   None of us will ever be the same. I know I’ll be okay — different but okay. This has been the most difficult experience of my life but it did make me who I am and I like who I am. I am strong and I am secure enough in who I am to know I will never do drugs. I will raise my children to know you can lose your life if you choose to try drugs even once. I’ve seen it.
   Craig completed a six-week program at Hazelden. After completion, he went to live at a soberhouse in Florida, which he eventually decided was not for him. He moved back to Minnesota and we were divorced. He lives at his sister’s with her family and occasionally sees our children. He knows how much damage he’s done and is in a deep depression.
   I’ve read the Big Book and believe in the program. It’s something you take one day at a time. If you don’t work the program you won’t recover. So far Craig has not given himself to the Twelve Steps.
   I’m sitting on the sidelines waiting for him to make that goal and score on conquering addiction. I will never give up; I am too much of an optimist. But there is a quite a reality check when someone close to you is addicted to meth.
   I said at the beginning of this story that I wouldn’t talk about statistics, but 95 percent of people who try meth become addicted. So why would you try it even once?
--Holly

A Bug's Life
   I started using Crystal Meth on a recreational basis. I did so with friends, at clubs, on vacation, at home and even sometimes to help me get through my work week. I was especially drawn to it because it gave me an overwhelming feeling of well being and WOW did it ever make me feel sexual. As a 40 year old male, it rekindled my dormant sex drive. Awesome! I would watch porn for hours or hook up with other tweaked out strangers online. I thought Crystal was something I could control and use at my own discretion. Meth really does make you believe anything is possible. Thinking I was smarter than most, I was concerned about the drugs effect on my body and health. I thought hey, I don't really use THAT much. As long as I force myself to eat and get a wee bit of rest, I can maintain this fabulous elevated state forever. Oh, I was far superior to the heavy Meth users or those that shot up the drug, I'd never let myself go that far. Previously I had said that same thing about smoking Meth but I soon fell into doing that as well. Such pretty white smoke. I'm still in control I'd tell myself. Soon I found myself using Meth every day. I did so for more than a year. I'd think... "I can stop one of these days soon and just go back to doing it on a recreational basis." It just made me feel so good I thought I could continue this way forever. I could bore you with a long list of things I started to loose on my ride along Meth Highway; my job, dear friends, respect, dignity, my home. You've heard that story before I'm sure. Here's one story you probably haven't heard though? It's a really really scary and unfortunately true horror story! Or so I thought...
   The following all took place around the 9th month of my daily Meth use. I was on a short 3-day vacation when suddenly; the nice hotel room I was staying in was crawling with insects. YIKES! Somehow these microscopic critters were now in my clothes, hair, in my car and basically everywhere. I went to the local emergency room and demanded to see a doctor. Funny, they couldn't mind anything wrong and then dared to ask me if I had been using any drugs? The next night the bugs were back and for several hours I literally ran through quiet residential streets being savagely pursued by a swarm of these tiny insects. They seemed to like me, REALLY like me and basically they would follow me around. I was able to get to a hospital again the following day after the bugs had burrowed into my fingernails and toenails. The damn bugs had now invaded my body! I was suddenly very concerned for my health and began screaming at the top of my lungs for someone to stop them. I was put in a padded room and then finally sedated because I wouldn't stop screaming. Hadn't I seen this scene in a movie once? Over the next several months, I was in and out of emergency rooms several times where I would emphatically tell the doctors and nurses that I had an "embarrassing infestation of unknown beings". PLEASE, help me. The ER doctors would usually inspect me, shrug and then prescribe a topical human insecticide for my skin. I can't tell you how many times I slathered myself from head to toe in different prescription insecticide creams. Sometimes I'd leave them on my body to long and becoming violently ill. Usually what it would say on my hospital paper work was that I had a Meth problem? What do they know!! Damn, it's hard to find a good doctor isn't it??? By this point I had lost friends and quit my job too. I mean, how can a person be expected to work 50 hrs a week when they are constantly being pursued by a new or very rare breed of insects? Most of the time I felt like I was involved in an epic human/bug war. There were several more episodes when I ran through streets, trying to look inconspicuous of course, as the bugs relentlessly chased me. Maybe people thought I was just some nut out for a jog wearing jeans and a sweater in the middle of summer. I showered several times a day, submerged myself in scented baths and chlorinated swimming pools to get rid of them. I sprayed my home and car with huge amounts of insecticide. I decided that my Landlord had purposely planted these pests in my apartment to get me to move! I spend thousands of dollars staying at expensive hotels until I could rationally figure this problem out. Funny the bugs were sometimes all ready in the room when I'd enter??? All the while I'd be doing the old Sniff Sniff everyday and wondering why my life had gotten so strange?. I spoke with many exterminators and had several samples of my carpet, clothing and hair tested. WHY can't anyone identify this problem?? Sniff sniff, thank God, at least I have the Meth to keep me going. I started to think like a bug and try to out guess their next strategic move on me. I was beginning to lose my mind and WHY won't anyone help me. Isn't it strange that none of my neighbors seem to have bugs or run down the street flayling their arms in the middle of the night? Sniff, sniff...I have to keep going so I can solve this mystery and make people believe me!! I felt I was living a 1950's Sci-Fi/Horror film, albeit not a very good one! This went on for the better part of 3 months until finally a good friend took me into his home for two weeks. I was able to escape The Swarm, get off the drugs and get some rest. However, even after getting off Meth and starting a new life in a different state, I was still convinced that I had lived through some sort of great Human VS Bug War. It took a good 6 months clean before I could even attempt to see that it all had been hallucinations from Meth and lack of sleep. The drug had REALLY messed me up in the head!!! I'm now in the National Bug Protection Program.
   I've been clean for a 2 years now and feel lucky to have escaped the death hold Meth had on me. Not to mention there isn't a swarm in sight now. I'm sure that many people reading this will find my tale funny and it is generally in my nature to put a humorous twist on things. My hallucinations were SO real though and SO unbelievably scary at the time I'm lucky that I didn't cause permanent damage to my body or mind. There is no other way for me to describe the shear horror that was my life at that time. How I wish I could go back and change everything, especially my choices, but I can't.
   Believe me; Meth just isn't worth it.
--Bug Free and Loving It!

poetry of a tweaker....
The delight in my name
I once had this name. Everyone called me this name.
When my family heard this name, their faces lit up with delight.
I once got into trouble and hid away in the darkness. People called this name out loud. I did not come, I was too afraid.
I once had this name. Everyone called me this name. When my "friends" heard this name, their faces lit up with delight.
This new name I had, when my family heard this name their faces no longer lite up with delight. They winced in pain.
They called this name out loud. I was more afraid than last time. I ran further into the darkness.
Through the darkness I heard this voice calling my name. At first I wondered who it was calling. I didnt know who I was.
I heard the voice call this name again and again. Hey! Thats me! I ran and ran towards the voice and it got louder and louder.
Then came the flood. All the love I had run from came rushing back in. That voice saved my life.
I have this name. Everyone calls me this name. When my family hears this name, their faces light up with delight again.
--Damian A.   "To anyone who hasn't heard these words in a while, I love you."

   I started using meth when I was 13 years old. I lived in a gang infested town where I was exposed to it. I saw every one else using so I said what the heck. I would stay up for weeks at a time and even worse a month. I would lie to my dad about it and say I am not doing anything but I think he alwasy knew. It was ruining my life. My old friends who didn't use saw a change in me. I moved from Arizona where I have been using to Iowa. I said fresh start I won't use. I did good for a bout a month. I started getting into pot really hard core then I went back to meth. I loved the feeling. My mom caught me one day using and she kicked me out. I had no where to go. I stayed with my drug dealer. On October 17th 2005 I was using my normal amount of meth when a friend came in. He said do you want to get a high like none other. I said of cource. I started twitching on the bed after I used. I was rushed to the hospital by my girlfreind unable to stop. They hooked me up to machines. I was scared. I was 18 years old and I thought I was going to die. The doctor finally came in and asked with a tear in his eye if I was a christian? I said I think so, why do you ask? He said cuz there is no medical explanation why you should be alive. I went back to my aprtment and cried on my roomates shoulders. I should be dead. The next day I threw all my drug related items away and so did my roomate. It is now 7 months later and I am proud to tell you I quit meth. I hope this story can be a helpful one to those in need. If it werent for god, I would be dead, and for what, a little high? You think about it.
--Kyle from Iowa

   my name is kevin. i am a 34 years old. my story begins in massachussetts, wher i was a regional vp for a company. i had been there for 13 years and i had it made. at the time my daughter, my purpose for breathing, was 8 years old. i was divorced from her mom, and her mom had custody. i had my visitation every weekend as well as daily phone calls. we were best friends. anyway, i met a woman from southern illinois who was living in boston. we ended up getiing together and we were very happy. i truley had the life i wanted. but then my life changed forever, we visited her home town on vacation, while at a party, i was introduced to meth, i had never done it or even heard of it. so, i was drunk and figured what the hell. the first high was unbeliveable, breathtaking. i was overwhelmed on how i felt. so for the week we were in illinois we stayed high. when it was time to go home, i bought enough to last awhile, caus ei couldnt get it at home. as time went on my work fell apart and we eventualy moved to illinois and i quit my job of 13 years. to make a real long story short, i started buying from a guy and after my savings dwindled down, i told him that i wanted to learn how to make it. he showed me and my life started to get real bad then. i went crazy making it, i met a ton of people that i thought were my friends, and i was making a bunch of money. again i thought i was untouchable, then one night i was pulled over and arrested for a traffic violation and when the cops searched my car, they found 10.5 grams of meth, i was sent to jail i stayed a week in jail and some one bonded me out. when i got home i found that my house had been robbed. i had nothing left, not even cloths. anyway, i went right back to making dope. i had to move cause i was worried the cops would know what i was doing. we moved to a new location and things started to get out of hand. i was making alot of dope and staying high all the time. the entire time i thought, i wasnt doing anything wrong. anyway, things kept getting stolen from me, people sniching on me, and i didnt care, i just wanted to stay high...and i did. i was arrested 3 or 4 more times for possession . i can remember staring into the sky thinking helicopters were watching me. my entire existacnce revolved around meth. One of the times i was in jail the woman i moved to illinois with found someone else that made meth to be with. that broke my heart. when i got out i wanted to die. i felt like no one cared for me anymore except for meth. so when i got out thats when i met who is now about to be my 2nd x wife. her name is mistie. meeting her was both the best and worst thing that ever happened to me. after meeting her is when i started banging meth. i went from a semi functional addict to a junkie overnight. i would cook any amount of pills i could get my hans on. just so i could bang more dope. i would at times cook 30 pills that would only give me 1 and a grams. i would risk life in prison for a gram and a half!!!!! i cooked every day, sometimes twice a day. then i remember this day like it was yesterday. i woke up with 6 guns pointed at my head. ther police had kicked down my door cause they knew i had a tank of anhydrus in my house and their were kids in the house. the one cop said to me "please move so i can kill you, thats more than what your doing for this kid" thank god for me living through that day, cause i could see in that cops eyes that he wanted to kill me. and if i were him, i would have shot me. i went to jail on a 100,000 cash bond. i just knew that this was it for me. the first time i went to court they offered me 10 years., i stayed in jail for 3 months, and in that time is when i found god. the jail had a church servive every saterday. the mans name who runs it is named merlin. i was baptised in jail and realized that meth had beaten me and i just hated it. so merlin showed me how to ask god to help me, and then how to let him help me. and guess what....he did. when i went to my court date, they gave me timed served cause the police didnt have a search warrent to enter my house. so when i got out i met back up with mistie and we were married. i loved her so, so much and still do. mistie decided she wanted to get high again but i refused, so mistie started running off and trading her body for meth. we did this for almost a year until one day, i ran into one of the guys she was trading her body to, and i beat that man until he was almost dead. thats when i realized that was it, meth took me once and i wont let it take me again through her. so.. i left her . 3 weeks later i wasnt feeling well so i went to the dr's . thats when i found out i had hepititus c. and my liver viral levels are high. after many visits and bi opsys my dr told me that i have beginig stages of liver disease as well as sirosis. I am going to die from my meth addiction. i recently started talking to local high schools to try to prevent kids from making the same mistakes i did. Ill end with this. If your on meth and wonder if you can get off it, the answer is yes, i did for over 2 years now. if you know someone on meth that you want to try to help, print these letters for them. the end result of meth is death. This is no joke, it aint cool to be dieing and it aint cool to loose your soul to meth. the most important decision you can make as a addict is to decide wether or not you want to live or die, because you will certainly die if you choose to get high, GOD BLESS all who reads this.
--IMGETINRITE

Celebrating one year of sobriety today!
   I am a 26 year old woman, and today I am celebrating my one year of sobriety. I am so grateful, and happy that I made it this long. Meth had so much power over me, that eventually it took myself away from me-to where I didn't know what kind of person I was, I couldn't remember anything about my personality! One month into using meth, I became suicidal, and probably would've succeeded in my attempts, if I didn't have anyone in my life at the time who loved me enough to get me to a hospital. I am so glad I wasn't successful in taking my own life. I still get cravings, but I have learned how to cope with them. It's still a struggle, and my sobriety is on my mind 24/7.
   To all meth addicts thinking about getting help - I AM LIVING PROOF THERE REALLY IS LIFE AFTER METH, trust me, you will feel happier and healthier once you decide to get off this nasty drug.
--NK

Mental illness from using Meth
   I thought I would write and tell everyone the story of my younger sister. She started using meth when she was 16 yrs old. She was a heavy user for 20 yrs. She has been clean now for 4 yrs. But, the depression, mood swings and paranoid behaviors did not go away. She has been under the care of a therapist and psychiatrist for 3 yrs. They know of her substance abuse history. But they still have diagnosed her with major depression severe, post tramatic stress syndrome, bi-polar and the latest schizophrenia. They have her on 2 anti-depressants, and an anti-psychotic drug. I don't what is worse. They way she was ,or the drugged out zombie she is now. My sister and her three kids have moved in with my mother, because she can no longer work or be a functioning mother to her kids. The meds cause side effects such as uncontrollable muscles movements. She looks like she has Parkison disease. She also cannot be out in the heat. One med causes her to body not to sweat. Last week we had to call an ambulance because she got heat stroke in 75 degree weather. I hurts to see her like this. I hurt so bad for my nieces to have deal with this. Please do not start using meth. The damage it does outlasts the high.
--Gin

My Families Story about Meth
   My story starts about twelve years ago, My oldest brother and his wife got involved in meth after their first son was born, it was just occasional usage on weekends once in awhile then by the time there second son was born it developed into everyday all the time then my brother started selling it to support there habit, after a few years they split up and were off and on after loosing there house and everything they worked hard for, during one of there on periods their third son was born, my that time my sister in law was so far gone that she did it the whole time she was pregnant with him and had done a line that threw her into labor, my nephew was born without any birth defects but six to seven years later he was diagnosed with leukemia, he is doing chemo treatments quite often, but before that my brother and her were split up when my brother started using the needle and ended up getting hooked on the needle, he was addicted to meth for a total of 12 years, when one day he decided to shoot up into his right arm, he ended up pushing the flesh eating bacteria known as Necrotizing Fasciitis into his arm, 5 days later the doctors had to amputate his arm and he has been clean ever since, that happened 17 months ago. People will not stop using until they are ready, my youngest brother watched my Brother Rob lay in the hospital and fight for his life, the doctors didn't think he was going to make it even after they removed his arm, but that didn't stop my youngest brother and there friends from using, it took my youngest brother Rick 6 months in jail after being busted for selling meth to finially realize that he needed to stop, he is now on probation for the next 5 years of his life and if he messes up one time he goes to prison for the minimum of 15 years. He also has two children, one that is living with Rick's soon to be ex wife, and inhaling the meth that his mom is smoking and blowing into the air that he is breathing. My mother has called protective services in New Mexico and nobody will do anything to help keep this little boy safe. Meth is the Devil's drug and the only way to save your loved one's once they are on it, is to pray day and night to the good lord, he will listen God saved my brothers, they lost a lot but they still have lives and we still have them with us. Rob doesn't feel that he has lost an arm but that he has gained a life. He is trying to get involved with speaking out to people about the dangers of meth, he can't say how sorry he is enough for all the hell he put all of us in his family through. He just thought he was hurting himself. He still has not got to see his boys in over 4 years, his ex wife was busted for dealing meth about 4 years ago and she has been clean since then but she took off with his sons shortly after that and until he was hospitalized for his arm we didn't know where she was, it was at that time that we learned of my nephews leukemia. The past year has been really hard on my family. I want to fight this epidemic before it ever reaches my children. Thank you for reading
--Nicole, Mi

Confessions of a Scottsdale Tweeker
   Its three o clock, he should be here by now, I swear he comes late on Tuesday on purpose. I can’t keep going like this my kidneys hurt so bad, it hurts to even breath; if he doesn’t get here soon I’m going to die. How did I get to the point where my life depends on the mailman? I haven’t smoked since Sunday morning and its Tuesday afternoon. I slept for thirty hours, woke up and guzzled about a half gallon of water, ate some stale dry cereal out of the box, and crashed again until a couple of hours ago.
   I feel like shit, I’m shaking so bad I just put my tooth brush in my mouth and my teeth brush themselves. I get these electrical shocks that make every mussel in my body all spasm at the same time, just like clock work every fifteen minuets and my ears have this insatiable ringing that just won’t stop. I avoid the mirror at all cost, that’s not me in there. My eyes look evil, my face is sucked up, and I am nothing more then a hollow demonic shell. I’m white as a ghost because I am a ghost.
   “Where in the hell is he?”
   I’ve been sitting here by the door sweating and shivering, and rocking back and forth like an autistic child. Something as simple as getting up and walking to fridge to get some water requires fifteen minuets of hard thought and careful planning, to make the trip with the least amount of pain. I just need my check, I just need to score, and I just need to smoke and I’ll be ok. I remember when I was about seven they used to have an ad campaign that said “Speed Kills” I was at friend’s house, and when we walked into his older sisters bedroom there was a note written on the wall in crayon that read,
   “Speed doesn’t kill; it just helps you live faster”
   Is that what I’m doing? Living faster?
   No I’m dieing here, and I’ve known it for a while. I’ve smoked meth every day for over a year now. I know people that have smoked every day for five years and there a lot better off then I am. I do it, and I do it, and I do it, until it’s all gone. I smoke an eight ball all by self never stopping for sleep, or to eat, or for anything else until it’s all gone, for seventy weeks straight. My unemployment checks come every Tuesday, and I usually catch the bus to the bank, and then transfer to North Scottsdale to meet my connection. All of his clients are on Bell road between Tatum and Scottsdale, and he won’t take the drive through traffic down to Camelback where I live.
   Today I have to call Discount Cab, I’m too dope sick to stand the hundred and five degree heat waiting for the bus. I’ll pass out for sure it happened to me last week. I’ll be able to catch it back because as soon as I take a couple of hit’s I will be miraculously healed.
   “Where in the hell is he?”
   Just when I’m ready to say fuck it and crash again right here on the floor next to the front door, I hear the magical sound of the crackling paper from a hand full of junk mail being stuffed in my mailbox that’s way too small.
   I pull myself up and dial 200-2000 on my cell phone, as I open the front door. I’m blinded by the sun, and I can’t see a thing as I carefully check for my check. I only go out in the daytime once a week, and it’s hard for my eyes to get used to the sun. Discount Cab always says the same thing “five to thirty minuets.” In ten minuets I am back on the floor in a fetal position saying,
   “Where in the hell is he?”
   This time it’s the cab driver instead of the mailman, the hardest thing about being a drug addict is that it seems like your always waiting to get high.
   My kidneys are killing me; I just can’t stand this anymore. I’ve tried to kick but between the shivers and shakes, being dope sick and the kidney pain with electrical shocks I never make it more then a couple of days. It’s not jonesen for the drug that keeps me smoking. I have to smoke to stop the pain.
   Finally I hear it, the rap on the door. I grab the door knob and the arm of the couch, and pull myself up. I get my check and my driver’s license from the table and open the door. Smoking tweak makes your joints stiff, and laying in bed for thirty hours doesn’t help, so I walk out of my door like a hundred year old man, all bent over with a crooked spine, and a hand on one kidney. Just before I get into the cab I have another electrical shock and start convulsing. The driver asks, “Am I taking you to the doctors or a hospital?”
   “No to the bank.”
   We get half way to the bank and I realize I forgot my pipe, “We have to go back to my apartment, I forgot my ID.”
   Smoking tweak makes you forget everything, I used to always pay for gas and forget to pump it, then go back to the station and try to get it with no luck. That was before I lost my vehicle. When I finally make it to the bank teller, I look like such a tweeker she double checks my ID and then she double checks my check, and then calls her manager over to check it. It’s only two hundred dollars, but tweekers are notorious for check fraud, so I don’t really blame her.
   When I’m back in the cab I tell the driver to go to Fry’s at Tatum and Bell. Then I call Beto my connection from the back seat of the cab on my cell phone.
   “Queonda muchacho, tranta minotos at Fry’s?”
   “Quantos?”
   “Oun Centos”
   “Esta Bien.”
   You never say too much over the phone with Mexican dealers, they can tell who you are from caller ID, they already know what you want, they just need to know how much, and where at, and what time.
   The driver looks at me through the rear view mirror, like he knows exactly what’s going down. I don’t give a shit. Beto’s already waiting for me when the cab drops me off, the driver offers to take me back but I decline his offer.
   I just lean in the widow of Beto’s car and hand him a c note, and he hands me two little bags with a sixteenth of glass in each of them. I feel better just holding it. He pulls out and I walk over to circle k and go behind the dumpster. Beto kicked down, these sacs are awesome, nothing but crystals, just like the ones they sell in the gift shops in Sedona but miniature. My fat fingers won’t fit in the tiny little zip lock, so I just shake some out into the palm of my hand.
   I pick a good one and shove it in the stem of my pipe and shake it down into the glass bowl. I carefully heat the bottom of the bowl until it melts. Every bit as clear as water, this shit is getting way too good. It used to be copper colored when you would melt it, and then it got to be gray, now it’s always crystal clear and strong as fuck.
   I slowly heat it until it starts to smoke and then suck on the pipe as the liquid starts to boil, I fill my lungs as full as I can but my kidneys hurt so bad I have to stop half way.
   I hold the hit in as long as I can, and as soon as I exhale I feel the pleasure starting to begin. Finally my ears quit ringing, I can hear again. My kidneys still hurt but not as bad, I take a couple of deep breaths, it’s a combination of Jaguar exhaust and circle k dumpster, nothing like the great outdoors of Scottsdale Arizona.
   I hit the pipe a couple of more times, most people would be flying with this much but I am just starting to feel normal. I stretch like I just got up and was looking for some coffee. I no longer feel desperate, or like I am going to die. I feel great with a false sense of well being, and best of all my kidneys quit hurting, and no more electrical shocks. Strangely enough I’m hungry, so I take a couple of more great big hits, and high tail it into circle k to get a hot dog and a big gulp and a pack of smokes.
   I am extra friendly with the casher, and eat my hot dog while chatting with her, I step outside and have a smoke, then I sneak back behind the dumpster for a couple of more hits. I smoke until I start to get paranoid, I take my tennis shoe off and hide the meth under the sole, I throw my pipe in the dumpster, (I have more at home) and cross the street to catch the bus. It’s five fifteen on Tuesday; I’ll stay up smoking until early Sunday morning when these two sacs are all gone. When I wake up next Tuesday morning, my kidneys will hurt more then they did today, and the electrical shocks will be worse.
   Then after a few more weeks of this I won’t wake up at all, and it can’t be any worse then where I’m at now.

Reflections IV
I last left off with "I went back to doing ice. The next day I had scored and had 2 backups. I had delivery. I had all-hours service. I had one call setup, future holds for me, and fronts. I had the right price and the right cut and the right everything...nice folks and polite and prompt. And that is a very, very bad thing because life falls apart all too easy when you live like you are a rockstar and you hardly have money for Mickey D's for the kids. And that went on for the rest of summer, but turned worse and corrosive and caustic and desperate..."

I will take a break from the story here for one session of captured reality about the true hurt, misery, and demise that this drug caused. I kept a journal from time to time as an outlet of the feelings that were cascading and colliding inside of my mind and soul. This installment of Reflections will provide accurate, exact, word-by-word exerts from my personal journal kept during the ice demise. As always, everything I tell in my Reflections tale is the honest truth.

Swath- She sits with black-circled eyes, coated with perceived lies by my twisted scope of life. She fakes care and desire, a simple cast look and exhaled smoke words-falsehoods and arrows of misdirection. Stinging-nettle sin coats the skin with caustic resin, penetrating the pores with poisonous paralysis. I fight to die, living inverted inside my cardhouse of empty promises. Folding into itself, the selfish pleasure of feeling once again implodes into ridiculous treason.

Interlude- The place holds me inside and hurts me with twisted mirrors, painting myself with blood colors while blindfolded, teaching sign language to my teeth. This broken elevator strands me between freedom of life and the pursuit of demise. My dreams chase after me, fearful.

Her- Fury, light, wind, and chaos blend into curvy silhouette shapes and stands there: My hostile lover. Her impact is magnanimous, impeding the light of day and confusing the night.

Supplicaton- Remove me from a backward glance because it is long past the point of destruction, the shadow was cast and crawled away from the sun. Footprints fade into seasonal cycles. I cannot disappear from this entrapment, lost and indentured, I vanish within. What is my checkpoint? Unfinished business, the challenge not met, the damage inters order by levels of hurt, need, and later comes desire...or longing. This house is full of twists and turns. Ghosts hang a low fog of strange interjections; we sleeping with intruding moth thoughts. The kitchen is clean, the place neat, the kids asleep: Do the necessary things to survive.

Vast- These words don’t matter, here on this lump of rock called planet Earth. Empty sentences tumble through dark space on waves of sound, carrying a void message to empty molecules. The energy exerted to send this emotional resonation hardly blips on any detection instrument, however it gores the expresser from within. Held, literally suspended in the weightless warehouse of memory, the caustic strike of the declaration wounds even after a time spell...like forgotten landmines. The intonation arrives sleepily-harmless, it is a rabid opposum feigning death only to surprise assult with venomous decay from the realm of the non-living. Deaf nerve reactors absorb the smack of the hurt; “nothing can bother nobodys' fool”. Time repeats itself through actions, expressions, and consequences like a string of paper dolls, folding into itself before the stressful expansion.

Curved Rhythms-
Can’t stop wondering where this path ends
how far this line of sight extends
what direction this map line plots

Her words freeze across my lips like icsicles
and shake my warmth into packages
that look like fancy-wrapped chocolates
that have been left in the hot car
and have now become a
ruined gift

These pink mornings extend into the
heat of bright white and light blue
and onward into the gray overhanging tones
of rain and wetness, before casting
purple shadows which leak blackness
and pinpoints of hope when I finally find rest

She closes me inside my words
capturing me in the meanings I leave
for her with flowers and stolen kisses
while her mind still slumbers I have touched
her on her heart with my exploding belief

This is called Reflections. I can't say my whole story at once, I just can't. I'll write to this Letters page from time to time  and try to tell it all for those that keep up; just look for Reflections in the heading. I do want to say that I've made it out, barely. And I will never lie or embellish my story; all of it is true including my name. And all the other names of f-ups will be true as well. Please tune in, I won't keep you waiting long.
--m

   Hi My Name Is Lisa I Have Only Been Clean Two And A Half Months And Right Now Seems To Be The Hardest Part So Far. I Moved 45 Minutes Away From The Dealers I No Longer Know. I Just Need To Talk To Someone Who Will Understand And Not Judge Me. I Am Twenty Years Old And Had Been Doing Meth Since I Was Thirteen When Does It Get Easier? Will It? Noone Listens To Me Noone Really Cares And Right Now He I Had A Jib To Smoke I Dont Know What I Would Do I Would Desperately Want To Smoke It But At The Same Time I Would Want To Throw It To Shatter it On The Concrete. I Used Meth Because I Was Fat 250 Sounds And I Got Down To 92. Now I Am At A Normal Weight. Not Too Anorexic Looking And Not Too Fat. I Was Told Id Stay Up For Three Weeks At A Time Sometime More And Them Sleep For Like Eight Hours And Then Start Over. I Dont Really Remember. I Dont Know Whats Going On In My Head Right Now And I Dont Really Care I Just Want It All To Go Away So I Can Be Normal Again. I Let A Drug Rob Me Of My Childhood. What Do I Do Now.
--Lisa

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