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The first time I tried Meth I was told it wasn't addicting. Within two months, nothing seemed to matter to me but making sure I was high. Eventually I was shooting three to four grams of Meth I made a day. I was never not high. My arms, leg and neck were bruised from stabbing myself. If I wasn't cooking I was shopping for ingredients. I remained scared out of mind. Still never high enough. Once I thought I overdosed because I was bleeding out of my vagina everywhere. It turns out a miscarriage I had two months prior wasn't fully finished. I got a cab and went to the hotel, finished a cook and got high. I didn't care if I died.
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