Why I drink or use drugs...
If you believe that drink or using drugs is (still) fun.
Crystal Meth: Don't follow the white rabbit...
Just like many, peer pressure started it all. It was only supposed to be one hoot, ha, it didn't stop at that. One hootand you're hooked - that's what I found out, no word of a lie. It gave me a boost above the world, above reality. A feeling so hard to explain. It gave me abilities I've always wanted. To be the best speaker - confident and not scared, it made me feel important, cool and far more superior than I ever felt before. Well, at first it did.
The high of my best fit was everywhere, anytime. I started to find that any time was the best time for it - to get high. I began to have a new best friend. It was all I neededall I wanted. Even when the side effects started to happen. Besides loosing 45 pounds in six weeks, I started to lose my mind, my memory, and began getting very, very paranoid. But still I tried to work around it. To slow down a little, to control it, but it wouldn't let me. I started to find every excuse to do it. Never believing I would stop, thinking that it was still o.k.fooling myself every time. Soon my world of high and mighty came crashing down. Seeing life at a new and shitty level. The world sucks and so did I. I thought I could just stop, but it was a trap.
My best friend stabbed me in the back. I was it's bitch, on my knees for only a substance. I was living only as a foolish host for the virus, it grabbed hold of me, and took me overnever letting go. You try to sober up, to get back to normal. But you fully don't recover; you stay a little sketchy. Still always watching the distorted visuals, and the sleep deprivation still running strong. Lost in wonderlandmy new reality with no escape, and little hope. Wishing you could take one deep breath and blow out all the poison and go back to normal. But the fucker who said: Come on just one hoot won't hurt you, never said it's the slowest suicide to death known to man. To trick you into thinking you're on top when you're really further down than you ever imagined.
Take my word for it - NO THANKS to me now is the same as NO PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. There is no getting away with this shit, this grim romancer, you won't handle the stuffit handles you, for the rest of your life. Never fully getting back what it took. But there is hope in me I see. A second chance. I see life again, reality, it's awesome. So it's time to live life and love it, without JIB because this time; I'm better off alonewithout crystal. I can't think about it, talk about it, hear about it, smell it, see it, or taste it, without my morals going out the window, as well as my life and me jumping to it. Jumping off my bridge of change and recovery forever!
My final words are: You think it hard to say NO at first. Just wait until you've stepped through that door. It's almost impossible to stop once you've tried it! Don't follow the white rabbit. D.J.G.
THE SHADOW PEOPLE
I toked my first joint when I was twelve, I wanted to see what it was like. My older brother did it so it must be cool. However, I never really got hooked on drugs until I started drinking in grade ten. I also begun experimenting with chemicals around this time. About two years ago I moved to the north side of the city and moved in with my mother. I quit drinking and smoking weed completely. I began chilling more with my buddy D. whom I knew from my old neighborhood. D. happened to be a dealer selling E and grit. I began using ecstasy three or four times a week. I also started using drugs like acid, mushrooms, Ketamine, and I tried meth a few times. I even went so far as doing PCP, heroine and crack. I loved to be high. It was fun to get fried. As long as I didn’t have to deal with my parents I was cool, or at least I thought I was cool. Every weekend (and a lot of weekdays too) I was high, usually on ecstasy.
I got arrested, and when I was released I moved back home, to live with my father. The only thing that changed was that I didn't have to go as far to pick-up (While I was living with my mom I was still hanging out in the old neighborhood. Within a couple of weeks I was going hardcore. I was going downhill. I was smoking Crystal Meth.
I stopped hanging out with my sober friends. All I did was smoke jib. I had found what I had been looking for all my life. Jib made me cool. It made me sociable. Grit made me feel like a somebody. I stopped eating, I rarely slept. I use to stay up all night in my room listening to drum and bass and fucking myself up. By the time morning rolled around I would be looking at the world through a fog. I would see what looked like patches of smoke or mist. It seemed there was a person lurking in every shadow, THE SHADOW PEOPLE. I would hear voices and see things that weren't there. The voices were faint whispers faint whispers plotting against me. I became a sketch case. Always hiding from people/police that were not even after me. I didn’t trust anybody , I didn't even trust myself. Within a few months I was using so much speed that my body couldn't handle it.
After going on a bender I used so much that I didn't come down for about four days. My hands clawed up, my eyes were hazed over, I could hardly talk and when I managed to say something it was through a chorus of stutters and grunts. And I was literally unable to think straight. My thoughts were scattered and my memory was non-existent. I would forget that I already had a cigarette in my mouth and ask to borrow one from my brother on a number of occasions. I made the mistake of smoking more after about a week of this. The next day I was rushed to the emergency room.
I couldn't breath, I was hyperventilating, I had a heart rate of 150 BPM. Every muscle in my body seized up. My liver shut down and my skin turned a sick yellow. (To this day whenever I get drunk my skin turns yellow). I went into shock. I will never forget the look on my dad's face when I grunted and stuttered to the nurse that I used speed. The doctors told me that with the amount of shit in my system I should have been dead. They also said I couldn?t handle anymore ever again. They gave me some Valium to sooth the anxiety and sent me home. The next day. I was rushed back this time from my church! I had completely stopped breathing after the night sermon at my church.
I started going to raves and I began dealing ecstasy and speed. It didn’t take long for me to be a sketch case again. I would stay up for days, even weeks at a time. The shadow people returned and so did the voices. All this time I thought I was in control. I thought I was the boss. Really I was the bitch. I did whatever I had to do to get high and stay high. My life became a nightmare, so I would get higher and life would get scarier. I never caught on that the drugs made it that way.
The time came where I decided I had enough it was time to quit. I would throw back a few pills and smoke a few puddles, have the best high of my life then quit. I would keep telling myself this is the last time, this is the last time. But then I would get high again. This is the last time Tiger. It was a a dirty cycle. I was struggling with my addictions and I felt like I was fighting a losing battle. I lost hope. When fighting monsters, one must be careful not to become a monster himself. I had become a monster and I was too weak and too scared to change. I thought I could handle it, but nobody is stronger than addiction. It is a ruthless killer of life.
I now see a purpose in my life, something worth changing for. I wake each morning sober and happy looking forward to the day ahead. I missed so much, my eyes were sealed when using and I missed the true beauty of the world. I never want to go blind again. T.M.
Didn't think it would be a problem...
I started doing drugs when I was 13 years old. I smoked a lot of weed. I started skipping school and doing crime for money. I started losing friends by doing that. As the years progressed I got kicked out of my house and started experimenting with other drugs. My drugs of choice were Crystal Meth and weed and acid. I was doing them so much I didn’t realize the impact it had on myself and my family. If I had a time machine I would go back and change the mistakes that I made. I kept using because it made me feel good and I thought I was cool. If I keep using when I get out I will lose my family, friends, lovers. I will probably also be dead. What I can do to help myself is to keep myself busy with a job or a bunch of friends that don’t use, This has been my story. A.G.
Just wanted to have FUN
I started smoking herbs and drinking just for fun with some friends. As I lost more and more of my inhibitions, I started experimenting “Mushrooms” “Acid” “E” “K” “Soft” (cocaine) and finally “Speed”. This was the first time I experienced an addiction. I didn’t know it at the time though. I just thought I used it to work my phone and stay up late for other activities. I lost 45 pounds in 2 months and all I did was snort it. I went through about 1 month of withdraws which reoccurred after about 3 months. Now I want to get my life straight and there is absolutely no room for speed in my life. I consider doing speed the biggest mistake of my life. My “sketchiness” led to me losing my best friend and my girlfriend for 7 months. It sure wasn’t worth it. K.R.
I can't stop selling drugs!
I don’t feel that my drug use is an escape. I only smoke weed and I do it because I want to. It feels good when I’m stoned. I think my biggest problem is selling drugs in order to support myself. I don’t like it but I feel I have to do it. I on occasion “pop E” in order to have the feeling it gives me. It is like extreme pleasure but it isn’t right and I’ve given up all the weed. I hope I can make it. C.E.
Peer Pressure got me started
I guess what started my drug use was peer pressure maybe I wanted to try it out anyway to see what it was like cause I saw my friends doing it and they were having fun. So one day my friend asked me if I wanted to buy a joint so I said sure and we bought one and smoked it I loved the high. I felt great and from that day I pretty much used weed daily. I liked the feeling and cause I found out I could escape my problems. When I smoked all my problems left my mind. I was eleven. I never really used alcohol cause I hate the feeling if I drink too much. So the weed eventually turned into speed. I hung around older people and that’s what they were doing. Maybe to feel more accepted I tried it and got totally hooked. I did crime every single day, didn’t care who I hurt as long as I had some speed. After about 8 months I went to jail for an assault charge for 9 months.
When I got out the first thing I did was a hit of acid - my first time. I had wanted to try it for a long time and it was there when I got out. I loved the high it was crazy I never laughed and tripped out that hard in my life. Then it got worse. I got back into speed again, went to clubs got introduced to “E”, “mush”, and “K”. I would do these drugs every few days weed everyday. I only did “K” a few times and “crack” a few times. “Speed” once every couple weekends, and stayed up for days, and “mush” and “acid” every few days. It got pretty bad, and I kept coming in and out of jail; but still kept using “weed”, “acid” and “mush” - I cut down on “speed.”
I think the reason I kept using, was I loved the feeling of the drugs. I could escape all my problems. I didn’t have to worry about anything while on the drugs. It was a whole different world on the drugs, nothing got me down. I don’t think it was peer pressure that made me use; actually I know it wasn’t. It was because it made me feel great. I could talk to people easier. I wasn’t lazy. I was willing to do anything. It was something to do, so I wasn’t bored. I loved to party and get as high as I wanted and do what I wanted; but really, when I think about it, it’s not worth it. All it does is mess up my body, screws up my mind and puts me in jail. If I start using again, I know I’ll end up back in jail, and I don’t want that! So... I’m going to get a good part time job and finish my schooling. Then get a really good full time job and maybe get involved in some sports, and start working out. I’m going to do whatever I have to do, to keep away from the drugs. Drugs aren’t worth the hassle they put you through, all they do is fuck your life up and I finally realized it after being in jail ten to twelve times, that “they ain’t worth it”. So, I’m ready to finally kick it! J.H.
The Adventure begins...
It all started for me one day in August, when I met up with a kid I knew. We got drunk that night and then I didn’t want to go back to my group home on the north side. My bed got closed and so I moved in with my friend M. The next Friday night M. and his friend took me to a club where I met so many people. I was standing at the door and this chick gave me her extra ticket. She took my hand and we both went in together. She then told me she would be right back and to stay there and wait for her. So, I waited and in ten minutes she grabbed my hand and brought me outside again. She said “Let’s go for a walk” and we did. She took me to a stairwell and asked me if I had ever smoked speed before. I said “No”. She had a shard and put some white powder on it, then she melted it. From powder it became a liquid. I was shocked. She told me how to smoke it and I did. At first I didn’t believe I was high, and I didn’t feel any different. But later on in the night, I noticed I was not tired, and then I started to get sketchy.
After that night I always went to clubs and got high all the time. After a while one thing led to another and before I knew it I was addicted. I was addicted to Crystal, to Ecstasy, to Mush, to Coke, and when I had to crash it was the worst feeling ever! I thought I was going to die! When I crashed I would sleep for at least a week. When I got up, I would eat, have a shower and then go out to get more drugs and do it all over again.
I went car hopping, doing B.&E.’s and took money from other people. I lied and cheated people too; but I did not feel bad as I rationalized in my mind, that I needed the money more than they did. But in my heart, I knew that wasn’t true, because I would go buy drug with that money. The people I stole it from would probably go buy the things they needed, but couldn’t because I took their money. That’s what happens when you become addicted to a drug.
When you buy Meth, or try it your adventure has begun. At first you will think it’s fun, but it won’t be after a week and people aren’t sharing with you any more and you can’t front any more because you owe the guy money. So now you broke the law and then you get busted and you can’t get bail because you don’t have a fixed address and you can’t even go back to the Shelter because you got kicked out. So, you go to jail.
This is my story and I hope you won’t take that hoot or snort that line because you will fuck up your life. So don’t do drugs at all. J.R.B.
This letter was emailed in to the site.
I was reading a few posts and noticed that a lot were personal and I kind of feel, out of place talking about my story here, but for those who care, here it is. I will speak with my last shred of intelligence.
I am 14 years old and tried meth for my first time 2-3 months ago. I started drugs at 13, after I moved out of my grandmother's house (Which I was raised at). It started off with pot, "friends" down here at my mom's turned me on to it. That's when I realized that even a once straight A student who always said no to drugs before could turn bad. I lost interest in school at that point. Started hanging with a different group of people. I was known through the whole new school as the stoner.
One day a "friend" asked if I wanted to try some GLASS when he got it. Unlike most people I excitedly said, yeah! He told me all about it and said to have a clear nose. So the next day I tried it and didn't think it affected me. He told me that I'd feel it....and i did. Felt so good. In the time that passed I couldn't wait for the next time he brought glass. I started giving him money, and at times throwing away money to a backstabbing friend. But I was still appreciative when i got it.
One night, I got drunk with my step dad, and previously that night one of his "loser friends" (as my mom says) came over. My mom told me to watch because she knew that there was a drug transaction. But I didn't care. So while I was drunk I told him that I wanted to get fu**ed up. And after calling a few people with no luck he came out of the blue and popped out a sack of crystal... I got so happy that I hugged him and was so excited... we did a couple lines. We decided that we needed to go to the store and get drinks. On our way back (walking) from the store he noticed a black carrying case. (looked kind of like a cell phone carrying case) It was sitting right in the middle of the drive way.
He said to me, "Hey, Shady (Obvious name change), what is that sitting right there." Since I was wired, at that moment I automatically thought - Looks like a stash for some crystal. So I walk over pick it up. I open it and at that moment I'll never forget. I Got so WIDE EYED... and I pulled out the contents to my step dad. The pouch had 2 EIGHT BALLS worth of crystal meth inside... We both got so excited that we went into the garage room and counted it up... about 6 baggies with 2 eightballs worth distributed (not evenly)... all of it labeled with numbers. We figured out that his friend had (in tweakers stupidity) dropped his stash into our driveway when leaving... We agreed to keep it secret and that I would sell some for him.
IN the days that followed I had some of the worst times... All the sleepless nights. In case you didn't know, crystal gets boring if you have so much of it within your grasp whenever you want it. So I'd be coming down with an eight ball in my shoe tongue and wouldn't do any... Then I found some people who wanted to buy, and we had smoke sessions and I became so cool to them. But something happened that was devastating to me. I had been smoking crystal all week long... no food or sleep.
One day on a come down my friend brought a nickel of chronic over. We ended up blazing it and I felt like SHIT! I turned sheet white and felt so nauseous. I could hardly move by myself. They had me throw up and took me onto a bed. My girlfriend was wiping me down with a cold towel since my temperature was WAY above normal. Since that day 2 weeks ago, I have been straight. I almost ended up in rehab and almost did time in juvenile detention. My mom knows the story and trusts that I'll remain straight edge. I myself, sadly, don't know what I'd do if crystal was available to me again. Actually I do, I think I'd do it. Because that's how it trained my brain is. I hope I didn't bore you. Shady
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