Citation: hollybear. "Disconnected: An Experience with Methamphetamine & Sleep Deprivation (exp77869)". Erowid.org. Aug 1, 2019. erowid.org/exp/77869
During a separation from my husband, I was first introduced to meth. My friend was friends with a dealer who was here illegally from Mexico and we were introduced. He had some of the purest meth you could ever find straight from Mexico.
Not meaning to be arrogant, I am an attractive girl and the dealer, we'll call him 'M', wanted me around more. I never had to pay for my meth, which was half the problem
I never had to pay for my meth, which was half the problem
because I had so much of it around me at all times for free. M suggested I snort it. A couple of minutes after snorting, a tingly warm sensation came over my body and I suddenly felt like superwoman. I didn't necessarily feel 'high', but I just felt like the entire world was a wonderful happy place and I loved everybody. I was so in love with everybody I snorted meth with that I even let M's wingman (we'll call him C) take my car to do his drug deals around town. I didn't even care. I trusted everyone and loved everyone. They all seemed like the most amazing people in the world.
That was how it started. Before I could come down from my high, M continued to let me snort more lines. We drove to a hotel and I took their cash and used my credit card to pay for a room that they could deal out of (they did not have credit cards because they were illegal aliens). I didn't even mind that my name was going to be tied to this room where there was going to be large amounts of drugs put together. It didn't matter to me because I felt this strange emotional bond between M and his friends.
The days began to blur together as I continued snorting every couple of hours or so. We drove around to do drug deals, and sat in the hotel room laughing and talking about God knows what. We visited friends and everyone just sat around doing nothing but smoking and snorting meth.
After about 4 days straight of this, something changed.
After about 4 days straight of this, something changed.
Suddenly I began feeling less euphoric and more paranoid. At one point, the cops were doing their routine run of this particular trailer park we were hanging out at. (Apparently, there were a lot of meth heads living there.) Everyone's fun turned into panic and anger in a split second. I'd never seen people freak out so bad. That's when I started to feel panicky and it all went downhill from there.
On day 7 of being strung out on meth with no sleep, I was sitting in another hotel room with M, C, and a bunch of other people. M took me into the bathroom and gave a big line of something he said was the best thing he'd ever had. An hour or so later, I began to feel so hot that I felt I was on fire. The room was jumping around and my heart was racing so fast I thought it was going to explode. I have never felt any feeling so terrifying in my life. I laid down on the bed and tried to talk myself down. It didn't work. My heart continued racing and that's when I began hearing the voices. I distinctly heard M in the bathroom with two of my girlfriends talking shit about me. They kept laughing loudly and saying how stupid I was and making cracks at me. I looked around so embarrassed at everyone else in the room with me. I felt so ashamed that they could hear those three in the bathroom saying all these nasty things about me. I looked over at Mís cousin and she had the most distinct concerned look on her face. She asked me if I was okay. I smiled and said I was fine, but inside I felt like I was going to jump out of my own skin. It was so hot in that room that I felt like I was sitting in the middle of a burning house. I got so upset that I decided to get up and drive away from my friends who were so obviously trying to destroy me by making a fool out of me and laughing at me behind my back. Needless to say, they really werenít. The voices were all inside my head, but at the time they seemed so real no one could have convinced me of that.
Well, I got in my car still shaking, on fire, and pulse racing so fast itís a miracle I didnít have a heart attack. As I was driving home, I began seeing these white figures ahead of me in the road. They looked like people trying to cross the street. I was crying so hard and freaking out now because I thought there were ghosts following me. I was paranoid beyond belief. I thought I was going to die, or at least be killed by one of these ghosts following me everywhere. I got so scared I pulled over and called my husband. It didnít matter to me that we were separated, I needed someone. He came in a heartbeat and drove my screaming ass back to our old place we use to live together. The whole ride back I kept seeing a demon face laughing at me outside the car window.
After a couple of minutes at home, my husband felt my pulse going so fast that he rushed me to ER. I was talking in nonsense to the doctor. I couldnít remember anything that had happened for the last week. In fact, I didnít even know it had been a week. Where had the time gone?? What had I been doing for 168 hours straight?? I was telling the doctor some cracked out story about going up to a mansion where people were forcing me to drugs. I was clearly out of my mind.
Luckily for me, I was okay, despite having panic attacks about every 3 days or so for a year after stopping. I have never done meth again. Nor do I ever want to. Itís the most awful stuff in the entire world. I didnít even realize how sucked up I got into it before itís too late. And the high isnít necessarily a ďhighĒ, but rather an ascension into a state of heightened senses, boundless energy, and agitation. Itís not even really enjoyable, but you continue to do it because when you stop you feel like so awful and depressed and you forget what itís like to be a normal person not on meth.
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