Drug Epidemic

Warning: Age Sensitive Material!!

There is an epidemic that is/has been taking America by storm.  A drug that can be made in a bath tub near you with everyday chemicals that you can pick up at the local CVS.  A drug that is being made in households where children are present.  A very dangerous drug called CRYSTAL METH.

Many of the people on here don't know me well enough to know the trials and tribulations I have went through in my life.  One of those trials was my addiction to drugs especially Crystal Meth.  So I figured I would fill you in on a very dark part of my life, something that effects my every move and thought...Addiction.

I moved to San Francisco in 1997 to escape small town America, boy didn't I do that.  I went to SF for a two week vacation to see my cousin and never left.  SF is a city that will chew you up and spit you out if you let it, I was determined not to let that happen to me.

The first place I moved into after leaving my cousins place was living with a married couple.  Him looking like Rod Steward and her a gorgeous 22 yr old stripper.  I didn't really know what the story was behind these people but I was soon to find out.  I came home one evening at about 3 am and lo and behold there was about 15 people in my living room playing naked twister!!  You could imagine my shock, from that day on I realized they were swinging coke addicts.  So if you can beat em' you might as well join em.  I wasn't down for the swinging thing mostly because I could barely look at Rod with his clothes on, let alone off! 

The cocaine that was a whole other story.  I started snorting coke on a daily basis, I would do some before work, during lunch , and after work till all hours of the night.  I just couldn't get enough.  That feeling of not being able to get enough lead me to "freebasing".  You could never find a piece of tin foil in that house, unless it was next to the straw or taped to the windows to mask the sun.  After a few months of feeling the effects of the downward spiral, losing my job, losing my only friends, I moved out.

I searched again for a better roommate situation, I found it or so I thought.  I moved in with Miles and Paul, Miles was a cab driver for Yellow Cab and Paul, well he did "odd jobs"  in other words he was a drug dealer.  I found another job, I really liked it I was a Batista at a placed called Briazz. 

Everything in the house was normal for the first 6 weeks until my new roommates felt comfortable with me.  Miles worked the graveyard shift as a cabbie, and was always popping in and out through out the night.  Nothing too suspicious there.  Paul well, he would be in and out with random "strange looking" visitors all through the day and night also.  I began to suspect something was up when I noticed they both had locks on their doors and started to act very secretively.  I was let in by Miles that both he and Paul were addicted to Heroin.  Great now after moving out of the coke heads house, I am now living with 2 heroin addicts. 

Miles became one of my closest friends and confidants, he needed me just as much if not more than I needed him.  He let me in on his secret world of heroin abuse.  Miles snorted and smoked it, unlike Paul who injected it.  I always felt that injecting anything was dirty, so that is basically that is how I felt about Paul.  He was dirty.  We never became close. 

Miles started doing the whole process in front of me, it was scary to see someone I cared about so much killing himself.  I watched death come over so many people in that house.  I remember one day he was so sick "dope sick" as they call it and as much as I hated it I went to the corner of 16th and Mission and scored him a bag of H.  I had to cook it for him, I never envisioned myself doing that but he couldn't stop shaking, he couldn't do it himself.   I couldn't see him like that.  It scared me.  I was going to lose another friend.  Miles cared a lot about me, he would never let me do heroin, no matter how much my curiosity got to me.  I always wondered what is so good about it, maybe if I just try it "once" it will be okay...  He always told me "I tried it once 5 years ago".  That statement always deterred me.

In Miles' caring ways, and not wanting me to get addicted to heroin he started me on Crystal.  Paul sold a great deal of meth, I had no idea up until this time.  I started out just snorting it, man felt like knives going up your nose, I can remember to this day the first time I did it and my reaction.  Whoa that hurt, and than it was all like a dream, moments of pure ecstasy.  I began snorting meth on a daily basis, I always told myself I can kick anything, I don't have an addictive personality...wrong again.  This drug took ahold of me, and would not let go. 

After a few weeks of snorting it and doing severe damage to my nostrils I began smoking it.  Wow, what a great experience.  I loved it, I was hooked.  I sat in my room up for all hours of the day and night, my worst time was I was up for 6 days and someone asked me my name and I had no idea what my name was.  Literally no idea, my brain was mush.    I remember right after that got a great deal on some acid and starting taking and selling that too.  Tripping and smoking meth what a great combination, unless you are trying to hold a job, which of course is very difficult.  I lost my job, I lost two of my "friends" to heroin overdoses, I lost everything.  

My cousin called me one day and said " I don't know you anymore, you are not the person who came here" he told me this after I had finished making a bag of Ramen noodles out of the hot water at the local Safeway, I was doomed, it was time for me to go home.  The next day my dad put me on a bus back to Maine.  I walked int he door of my dad's house and he began to cry, I was emaciated, I went to SF weighing about 140 and came home at about 105, I was gross, pimples all over my face from the incessant picking and obsessing about your face and body.  My teeth were stained from the chemicals in the meth, I was ashamed of myself as my dad was of me also.

Everything was all good there, got some family therapy, just kept on smoking weed to pass the days  The summer went by and I saw snow, I beat feet back to Santa Cruz, figured maybe the situation would be a little better there. 

I met some great people there, moved in with some friends of a friend, they were all DJ's.  Not a smart move for a recovering drug addict to move into a Dj's (party) house.  I began going to the bars every night and taking multiple doses of ecstasy, we had a Nitrous tank in our living room for christ sake!  I was back at it again, I swore of the meth when I left SF but I found myself doing it as soon as I got back.  I partied hard in Santa Cruz for about a year and a half. 

I lived with the DJ's for about 8 months and met a boy, I moved into his house which turned out to be a meth lab.  I couldn't get myself away from the meth, I loved it and it loved me.  It loved me like no one/thing ever did.  It was a part of me, and truthfully still is.  I lived with that boy for the remainder of my time in Santa Cruz, until one day it happened.  I was out to get some supplies, i.e Acetone, Pseudoephedrine and other things to make some meth.

When I left they were cooking up a batch, on my way home I heard sirens and firetrucks coming near, I was about a block and a half from the house, and I could smell it in the air...the house had blown up!!  All my stuff was gone, all I had left was me, my boyfriend remained in Intensive Care with multiple burns about his body and head for 6 months.  

 I went back to Maine.

Now here I am in Florida, I can't be near it, I can't have it around me.  I swore it off after the accident.  My friend came to visit me from California about a year ago, she showed up with a vile of pure glass, I said no and than I smoked it.  I will never be able to say no to that drug.  It had brought some of the best of times and the worst of times.