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 When I was 16 I was approached by a fellow student at the bus stop and was asked to smoke a bowl of weed with him. I told him no, but he kept bothering me every day to smoke with him. Finally, on my birthday I agreed. That started my drug addiction and I went on try many if not every drug known to man. However, the one drug that deeply affected me and wouldn't let me go was Meth.
I started using meth at the age of 17. I can remember thinking that I wanted to use this particular drug until I died, from the moment the first hit went into my lungs. I was incredibly addicted to Meth from the first use. As soon as I took the first hit, I knew I had found the drug I was looking for. My method of use was primarily smoking it; which just destroyed my lungs.
From that first day on, I became a completely different person. I became a master manipulator, a compulsive liar, and a thief. All of which I never was before. I used every ounce of energy lying and manipulating to get high.
When I turned 18 I began to get bolder with my use and more dangerous. My parents had taken me to a drug assessment counselor at a hospital and I completely conned her. She told my parents that I had used drugs recreationally and didn't have a problem. But shortly after that, I dropped out of high school because it interfered with my using time. I lost an incredible amount of weight. I went from 200 pounds to 140 pounds and in danger of death. By the end, my skin looked like I had acne everywhere and you could see through my teeth.
I would go on extreme binges where I would leave my parents' house and not come home for weeks at a time.
The worst binge was when I asked a "buddy" to help me find a place to stay for a while. He drove me to some guy's house in Ahwatukee. A normal person would have been scared and obviously wouldn't be high. I walked into this guy's house, where I stayed for a week; and he greeted us with his machete. I can't remember being scared but I became very paranoid because he was. On my second day there he told me that he was going to kill me. Then he left for the day and when he came back he acted like nothing had happened. I wish I had realized then how bad things had gotten. But I knew I had to get out of there.
One particular binge, I left my parents house to go get high and ended up in Flagstaff, not knowing how I got there. Flagstaff was in the middle of their worst blizzard in years and I was caught in the middle of it with just a "wife beater". I honestly thought I was going to die. That binge lasted only a few days because of the freezing temperatures. The drive back was horrible. Since I was incredibly high, I was also very hot. So, I had to have the window open, therefore, letting snow inside my car all the way out of Flagstaff. I couldn't breathe well, I think hypothermia was setting in, and I had been awake for four days.
Christmas Eve: My parents wanted me to go to church with them on Christmas Eve because that's the traditional thing that we always did. However, right before we left the house, I received a phone call from Joe who was threatening to come to my house and shoot up our house as well as the people inside if I did not pay him back a large sum of money that he thought I owed him. I didn't owe him any money. He was trying to rip me off - I had given him and his buddy some meth in exchange for some possessions actually owned by another friend, but they thought I had shorted them by about $500 on the meth. My mom had caught me on the phone and said she would pay him because she was so scared for my life. I told her well he probably won't do it. So I just went to church with her and the rest of the family. Just to be safe, I called another buddy who offered to go to my house and sit there and wait and see if they came and, if anything happened, to take care of it. Going into church, there was a huge crowd crushing into the doors of the church. I told my mom I was going to have a cigarette and I dropped back into the crowd. Then my buddy called me and told me to come to the house "quick". So I took off on foot about ½ mile and ran back to the house, leaving my family at church, once again not knowing what I'm doing. When I got to the house, my friend had four friends with him and they all had guns. We saw Joe's car and they saw we were ready for them and this guy yelled out the window "Fuck you" and took off in his broken down Roadrunner. We realized it was over and he was just trying to scam us for money. He really wasn't going to do anything. I got them to leave before my folks got back so they wouldn't get freaked out. I was high through the whole thing. It all seemed like normal behavior to me.
One tonight I was high with my buddy and we walked about 10 miles at night. It was cold out. He left me and I slept behind a short wall behind Osco on the ground. It was really cold and windy, but the wall protected me from the wind. I had such high tolerance for meth by then that I could eat and sleep even when I was high. When I woke up I walked to a McDonald's and asked for some water and they told me to get out. I was nasty - skinny as hell, I looked like a bum, smelled gross, my face was all sucked out. Then I walked to a dealer's house and got high.
I started stealing large amounts of money from my parents and whoever else would believe my scams. I would steal almost 100 dollars at a time from my parents for a year. Even stealing that much money, I couldn't supply my addiction. One night two "buddies" of mine at the time decided we didn't have enough money and that I should steal my parent's checkbook and cash a large check. I thought about it for a second and ended up sneaking into their house and swiping a checkbook. We then proceeded to try and forge their signature and took it to a check-cashing store. I wanted to go to a bank where they were less likely to ask questions since they knew me. My two "buddies" wanted the money now and we ended up going to the check-cashing store. We tried to cash the check for $1500 but the teller went "in the back" and my "buddies" took off paranoid. The teller had just called my parents and I didn't know, but they were on their way to the store. I narrowly escaped a hefty federal offense that night. My mom talked me into her car and we drove home. I didn't want to go with her. She tried to get me to come in the house, but I wouldn't. I ended up walking away to my dealer's house late at night. My mom was standing in the driveway begging me not to go and crying. I didn't talk to her or see her for a couple weeks after that.
Not too long after that incident, I would have nothing to do with my parents and took to the street. For a long time I walked the lonely, desolate streets dying inside. I hated myself and the world. I felt that Meth was the only thing I could count on. I was completely delusional as well. My life seemed to be coming to an end, from my point of view.
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