Citation: Trixie. "I Could Be in a Ditch: An Experience with Methamphetamine & Police (exp14325)". Erowid.org. Aug 9, 2007. erowid.org/exp/14325
It started right after the Millennium in February. I had never done X before and we had a night out planned. The evening started with one tab, which led to two within 45 minutes and within 3 hours I had popped 4. We all went back to the apartment for a small afterparty at 4am which quickly prompted a massive headache to where I thought my brain was actually going to explode. At this point, I was given Excedrine Migraine and a nice girl who was convinced she had the solution for me.
Evidently, unknown to me at the time, the entire party was trying to stay clean from speed, so she took me into the bathroom and pulled out a wooden box filled with a torch, glass pipe, the works. All I remember asking is what is was. She said go-go. I asked what that was? She said, you know, speed? I said no. Again, she told me it was crank. Once again I asked what it was and she said amphetamine. Then I flashed back to high school health class where I recognized that it was some kind of drug but that was about it. I had to ask again and she said it was crystal methamphetamine, just smoke it. Being as I had never done this before, or even smoked cigarettes, I was a joke to even trying to smoke this, especially in my condition. This was beginning of my two year nightmare.
Within a month and a half I had a new roommate and a clan of new 'friends' who had a wonderful habit continuing 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I was a systems analyst and had a professional position and my roommate was a hairdresser. Everyone else was unemployed full-time. Over the next six months I managed to take up my new friends' habit and get a nice new boyfriend who was actually our dealer. This was not your typical speed we were smoking. This was pure white, uncut, wack your mind, rocket-fuel as we would call it. V.I.P. dope. And it was at our fingertips on a hourly basis.
We would break into tanning salons with walkie-talkies in the middle of the night to tan and run around town all hours of the morning. We would go out in groups to apartment complexes to steal furniture and even broke into model units. We would get so wacked out that we were consistantly convinced that we were being followed, watched, video taped, and tape recorded. My boyfriend proceeded to borrow my roommates car in one of his 'runs' and managed to get pulled over with over 44 grams on him and a side of coke to go. Unknown at the time, he had been set up by one of his so-called friends that was actually teaching him how to cook. The car was repossed, my boyfriend ended up being my responsibility, and my roommate and I torn apart.
If that wasn't bad enough, I bailed my boyfriend out of jail (only $3500), and decided to move in with him. I'm smart. Only after, of course, losing my job three days prior. With a stern set of rules, including absolutely no using, we were both trying, or so we thought, to get our lives straight. We got jobs, I was manager of a retail store and he was a auto leasing agent and we stayed sober for a couple of weeks.
Then panic set in. He was in denial of eventually going to jail for his arrest and I was in denial about it all. We would use on the weekends and I would cry until I got too high to worry about it. He had a plan to work with the DEA to ease the sentence he would end up serving. This started the physical abuse and the downfall of my sanity. This is now November of the same year and now my usage became more of an addiction than ever.
By January, 2001 he had lost his job and found out that he was going to jail by that April. It took him a month to decide that cooking dope was the solution for him. With money as his driving factor and his mind an emotional wreck, I went through the most unforgettable, unwishable nightmare I've ever known. For three weeks we cooked dope in our apartment and sold to all our friends. Until another of his so-called friends wanted to make sure he went down and reported him to the DEA. They proceeded to kick in my front door at 3am in full gear. Guns drawn, masks and bullet proof vests all worn. They arrested my boyfriend and made me call my parents. They came and got me.
It didn't end there. This is when my real addiction began to shine through. Over the next six months I managed to stay up for 5 days in a row, the longest for me, and get sent to the doctor several times for being so sick. I had gotten down to 115 pounds and I am a six foot female.
Two years later, 2002, I am just now beginning to get my life back. I am 145 pounds, healthier, and still living at home with my mom. Thank God my parents are the best parents in the entire world. I would be in a ditch somewhere if I didn't have them. I am 25 years old.
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