Citation: Najwa A.. "A Nightmare with a Karma Kicker: An Experience with Methamphetamine (exp46319)". Erowid.org. Apr 17, 2007. erowid.org/exp/46319
The dose described in this report is very high, potentially beyond Erowid's 'heavy' range, and could pose serious health risks or result in unwanted, extreme effects. Sometimes extremely high doses reported are errors rather than actual doses used.]
This was my first time trying meth, and if it hadn't been so unobtainable for so long, I might not have decided to go through with it. See, my friend D was always telling me he was getting it, but never came through. So when I finally did get it, it was more like a mission to get through with it than a decision I could say no to.
So I crushed it all up and snorted two lines. I asked D over the internet if I should have felt anything by the time 5 minutes had passed, and he said it usually took about 8 minutes for him. After 10 minutes I could feel the drip, but there wasn't much to it so I did a 'third' line, bigger than my other two combined. Finally, this stuffs starting to work.
After I did it, I immediately asked D if he wanted to go do something. He said he needed to go get his glasses fixed so we had to go to the mall. I usually HATE the mall, especially if I'm not willing to spend any money, but D is cool to hang out with when I'm speeding because we just talk and sing along to Beatles music in his car. Plus, I like to talk about the drug I'm doing at some point, and not everyone is O.K. with meth, and I didn't need anymore rumors about me going around.
He took about 30mins to get here, so for that time I just hung out with my mom. See, one time I had to take a 50min ride with her and did some coke beforehand so I could put up with it joyfully, and I noticed I really liked talking to her while I was speeding, maybe because it was finally tolerable. She was trying to get a fax from someone, but she didn't have enough paper, so I volunteered to run downstairs and get some: and run I did. It was actually fun getting her paper, and I remember hearing my friend E talk about how you like getting things done. So in about 7mins I took out the garbage, cleaned my cat's litter box, cleaned the dishes, and got the mail. I would've stayed and did more, but D had finally arrived.
We went to his girlfriend's house first for about 30 mins, and when we did arrive, I wanted D to feel like I was, so I gave him a bump and I did one myself. D commented on how big the line was, but I just sorta brushed it off, because it was just as big as the last one I had done.
We walked around the mall and got his glasses fixed, and even though I was content being there, I knew that if I was sober I'd hate it. We decided to head back to the car and try getting lost somewhere. We had to have spent a couple of hours just taking pretty backroads singing along to Beatles music and just talking, until he dropped me off at around 10 o'clock.
I talked to D on the internet for a while. He started to purge all of this really intimate information about himself that I was so fascinated to hear for about an hour, then it was more of an annoyance because I had instead become focused on making playlists for my iPod, and at some point I just felt completely exhausted in general and wanted to go to bed. I knew that wouldn't happen, so I just layed in my bed watching t.v. and listening to music.
See, I had these little depression waves coming, and I could feel it, so I tried to distract myself as much as possible. If it had stayed like this, I think I would have been fine, but the next thing that happened made all the good feelings that had happened before completely go away, and my first experience with meth turned into a surreal nightmare.
I got out of bed at some point to go see how fucked up I looked. I had really red eyes, so I went to my dresser to go get some eye drops. My dresser was only about 4 meters away, but on the way there I got really dizzy, and I had to sit down for about 2mins to regain my control. I finally experienced the sort of confused daze the movies make taking a drug look like. I got back up and tried to put the eye drops in: first eye down, but I wasn't sure if I got it in my second eye. The last thing I remember was feeling around my eye to check if the droplet had gone in. I woke up face flat on the ground.
What had happened? My hand was already at my head for some reason (now I think when I had passed out, I reached for my head injury without even realizing it) and I started to finger a lump on my forehead, OM MY GOD?!?! DID I BURST A BLOOD VESSEL?!?!??!?! HOW DID THIS FUCKING HAPPEN??!?!! I went into the bathroom and saw that I had not burst a blood vessle, but rather made a huge (and deep) gash down the left side of my forehead along into my eyebrow. I looked down to see my finger I had used to investigate was covered in blood.
I ran downstairs immediately and woke up my mother. 'oh my god, what happened', if I wasn't so terrified I could have said I tripped over something in the dark, but I didn't. I told her I had blacked out, and must have been acting pretty hysterical because while I was sobbing and hugging her, she told me to calm down. I instantly regained my cool for fear she'd suspect something.
She cleaned up my cut and I told her I needed to go to the hospital, I was so afraid they'd take a drug test, and was considering waking up my brother for his urine, but if anyone was going to find out I wanted to keep it down to my mother. I told her I had gotten up to go pee, and that I still had to. I went upstairs and hid the rest of my ice and my digital scale, and realized right before going back downstairs the song that was playing on my computer was Weezer's song 'we are all on drugs', it freaked me out a little bit, but I hurried downstairs.
When I went back downstairs I got a lot of water bottles to try and save myself from the results of a urine test if I was given one. My mother kept commenting on how she couldn't believe that there wasn't much blood, and even though I knew she didn't know what I had done, I FELT like she did. She asked me why I had gotten so much water, and I explained that I get vertigo when I'm dehydrated and I thought that's what happened. She bought it, why wouldn't she? She would have never dreamed I'd stoop so low.
She told me what hospital we were going to, and I let her know how much I despised it. All I had ever heard about were botched surgeries and even deaths. I upplayed my uneasiness about going there just in case I had to take a urine test or something, I could refuse and say I didn't trust the doctors. It was just a preplanned ploy, but really, the doctors at this hospital were obviously the flunkies of medical school.
When we got checked in, my heartbeat was at 147 beats per minute. In AP stat class a couple weeks earlier I had to check my pluse rate, and knew it was naturally 60 beats per minute. I felt like one of the nurses knew I had done something, as she asked why my heartbeat was so rapid. I said I didn't know, and my mom said that I was nervous, exactly. I upplayed my nervousness from that moment on: They asked me for a urine test and an EKG.
When they brought my mom the consent forms and left the room, I asked her if we could go to another hospital, she said it was completely out of the question, and asked why I was against this hosptial. I made an excuse I knew she would believe. See, my dad had gone to this hospital and would always talk about how bad it was, I knew he was full of shit and just didn't like doctors, but convinced my mom that I had developed a distrust for doctors also because of my dad. I look back on it now and realize how manipulative it was, all I had to say was 'dad always talked about how bad this place was', and I knew the seed I had planted in her head.
She was outraged at my father (who she had divorced by then) and called him letting him know what he had done to me, and refused to go anywhere else. So I walked out of the hospital, and ran into the woods across the street. Read that again, I ran into the woods across the street. How was I going to explain this irrational behavior? I couldn't let her find me until I had gotten everything straightened out in my head. I would occasionally see cars, and would run deeper into the woods, and across parking lots and neighborhoods. It was 4 something in the morning, and I knew they were searching for me.
At one of my longer resting points, I realized how dehydrated I was and got really angry at myself for not taking a water bottle with me. I peed in the woods, and investigated the damage I had done to my body. I only had shorts, a t-shirt, and sandals on, and the vines in the forest had made unforgiving marks all over my legs. ENOUGH, I had to get to a phone, and call my mother. I wanted to find her before someone else found me. I was also afriad the police would search my room and find the baggie and scale for some reason.
I saw an old couple watching T.V. across from where I had been hiding, and I knocked on their door. I didn't even care how strange it was, all I could think about was what my mom had to say. The lady from the house gave my mom directions to her home, and I went outside to face her. I got in the car and saw my mom had been crying. God dammit. I was such a bad daughter, and she put up with so much shit, I wanted her to be angry instead of disappointed at what she had raised.
I told her that the real reason I didn't want to go to the other hospital was because I had smoked weed and was afraid it would show up on the urine test. She was pissed, but said I still had to go. I had forgotten the severity of the cut.
When we got there and got out of the car, I realized that the cuts on my legs made it look like I had made them on purpose. When I walked past people, I knew that's what they were thinking, and even though it wasn't true I felt so embarassed. I had never been looked down at like that before. I'm a tall, thin, attractive asian girl who makes good grades and has a plesant personality. But to these people who had never met me, I looked like some anorexic cutter with a depression problem.
The people at this hospital were nicer though, and let me know that I had to get stitches, the other hospital was going to just put dermabond on it. When the nurse asked me if I usually had a high beartbeat, my mother again said I was nervous (good, she still believed my other story). I was asked for a urine test again, and I did it and knew my fate. I became deeply depressed, and carrying on the nervous act was getting excrutiating.
The doctor asked if I played any sports (to make sense of my rapid heartbeat I suppose), and my mother quickly said 'no, she doesn't do anything'. I could tell the doctor was suspicious throughout the entire surgery, but my mom still thought it was all nerves.
When he was done with the stitches, he left to go do tests on my blood, look at my catscan, and analyze my urine. The nurse came back about 40 mins later and said he only had one more test to do, but the other ones showed that I was fine. I tried to make myself think he had already done the urine test, but I was still deeply depressed. When he came in and said everything was fine 'but the drug test came up with amphetamines' I could have killed him if I wasn't so exhausted and down.
He asked me if I had taken any amphetamines and I said 'no', I didn't think I was fooling him, but I sure as hell wasn't going to give him any satisfaction. Then he asked me if I was taking diet pills, I gave him a quick hateful glare and again said 'no', he said o.k. and went off.
I had only glanced at my mother once when she wasn't looking at me, but now I could feel her eyes burning holes into my head. I tried to go along with the diet pills thing, but she didn't buy it. So I told her I'd talk about it with her in the car.
When we got in the car I told her I had taken Adderall to study (even then, I couldn't tell her what I had actually done). She yelled at me for a while, and I could tell what she was thinking and it made me cry. She had to put up with so much drug abuse from my dad, and she thought she'd have to take care of me the rest of her life also. On the way home we had a real heart to heart, even though I was crying hysterically. She's a pretty cold person, but she cried a little as well, and I feel like it was a good thing that we got everything out in the open, even if it was a hard experience to take.
I tried meth and yeah, it was cool, but with all the amphetamines I've tried it's still the same thing: it's a nice upper, but not worth the negative side effects. Amphetamines are all about being reckless and having a good time, and I can't say I've ever come out a better person because of them. The first drug I ever tried was cocaine, even before cannabis, jumped right over that 'gateway', and the only reason it was great back then was because I never got a bad comedown, but when I started to, it just wasn't worth it.
It took me almost a week to get back to normal: The first two days my vision was blurred, first 3 days I couldn't eat, and until the 6th day (today) I couldn't even stay up in class.
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