Okay first of all, I am not a big time drug user, I drink more than anything else and will smoke weed here and there, nothing too big. So if my terms are wrong, I apologize.
It was about a month ago that I first tried meth. My friend, we'll call her M, called me up and asked if she knew of a place she could smoke. Normally assuming that she had meant weed I said that she could come over my house, due to my parents do not mind drugs/alcohol use in our home. She came over with a few people and I started setting up my room so all the stench would be gone quickly until she said 'What are you doing? This isn't weed.' And I saw her loading white crystal looking things into the stem. I knew nothing of this and talked with her finding out it was meth, she was an addict of it and I had never known. I had been drinking that night already and she asked me if I wanted some. Being up to anything at that time I took about 3 hits of it and didn't really feel anything for a few minutes. After everyone left my house I stood up and felt a little light headed and the world moved just a tad, nothing major. I mellowed out a lot and thought it was a great drug, I fell asleep easily too.
The next morning I woke up for school right on time. I had gotten a great night sleep, I paid much more attention in school and was over all a bit more aware of life. Later that evening M called me up once again and asked if just me and her would like to smoke some more meth. So I picked her up and was very anxious to do the drug again. I felt euphoria last night and thought the same would happen today. She loaded it up and we each smoked it. After the first bowl I felt nothing, we smoked another, and then finally one last one. I still felt nothing and I had to take her home. Finally I stood up and felt like I was flying. 'That's the feeling right there!' She said. I felt like I had found a new sense to be alive and enjoyed everything I did.
[Erowid Note: Driving while intoxicated or tripping is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. Don't do it!]
I drove her home and she told me to come pick her up at midnight after she goes with her boyfriend and we can do some more so I dropped her off and my journey of how it felt began. I felt incredible, absolute heaven. I am normally a very angry person, and no matter how much I tried to get the slightest bit angry I couldn't do it, I was completely happy. I put on some Pink Floyd and sang along in the car, happy as all hell to be alive and existing. I drove for the whole time she was away and called a lot of friends, I noticed that meth makes me want to talk incredibly, it doesn't matter to who or what, I just want to talk. I picked up some friends, drove people places without a problem, they knew I was twacked up and liked how incredibly nice I was being.
Finally M called me back up and I thought I felt the meth wearing off so we came to my house and smoked another bowl and I dropped her off for the night and went to my friends house. This is the only problem I encountered while on it because I talked the entire night to 3 sober people, they were telling me to shut the hell up after a while. I stayed up until 6 am, not one bit tired, not one bit hungry, I didn't worry of this. But it was obvious that the drug had worn off. I went to school and tried to relax in a desk (I only had 1 hour) and thought I slowly felt my muscles coming back to me. As if they were falling from the air and back into their places. I thought I had sobered up.
Many a time had my meth friends told me that the 'comedown' was the hardest part of the ordeal. I thought that feeling of my limbs floating back was it, big deal! I handled it! I hadn't even begun to get there yet. I came home at 11 am from school and suddenly started to shiver. I couldn't get warm no matter how hard I tried. My body turned pale and my inner thighs looked as though they had been eaten away by some virus. This is where I started to do something you shouldn't do on any drug. Panic. I started to get nervous, my hunger wasn't returning, my sleep wasn't coming back. My heart began racing more and more. I paced around my room feeling as though I was going to die, my breathing became shallow and VERY hard to breathe. I called M and asked her if this was normal. She told me that the drug was going to take sometime coming out of me and to just relax.
I didn't have any weed, otherwise I would have smoked it and calmed down. Time seemed to move slower and my paranoid of death or permanent damage moved to a height greater than anything else I had ever had. Eating became HELL, even a bowl of soup, a small piece of pizza, some chips, that became a chore, something that felt like I was going to throw up after each chew. I couldn't believe this was happening to me. When I would lay down, I'd lay for hours and hours until I just got up knowing that I wasn't getting anywhere closer to falling asleep. I would only fall asleep after 4 Tylenol PM. This all lasted for four days.
I was going insane and starting to loose my hair by the last day. I began to see things such as bursts of light and screaming faces in glass reflections. I had lost nearly 10 pounds from not eating a thing, my eyes remained barely open from no sleep, but no matter HOW hard I tried I couldn't eat or sleep. I would have preferred death to this. This was hell on earth and I couldn't understand why ANYONE would want this drug. I noticed that the term 'tweeker' came into affect here. My body would suddenly jolt WAY more than your average muscle spasm and this would go on for minutes. I would suddenly grip things with no sense of why I was doing it. My jaw would grind down at my teeth and there was no control over any of this.
In total the whole ordeal lasted me about a week. I had a horrible experience with it and to this day shiver when I see it around me or if I taste gatorade (we used that as bong water). I have completely recovered now. Like I said, it took about a week. I finally was able to get some weed on the last day and that made me hungry as hell and allowed me to sleep like a baby. Meth was by far the worst thing that I've done to myself.
