Citation: Josh Nelson. "A Long Year: An Experience with Methamphetamine (exp55913)". Erowid.org. Sep 6, 2009. erowid.org/exp/55913
Well, they say be careful whom you befriend. This turned out to be very true in my case. I met Dave at a factory I was working at, and after a while I got to know him well enough to smoke pot with him and hang out. He was the 'druggie' type, drugs were on his mind at all times. I had been told to be careful around him because he was a bad influence, but nobody ever listens to that advice.
One day he told me to come over and smoke some pot. We were getting high when a friend of his came over and announced that he got a hold of some good shit. Dave decided that today was as good a day as any for me to see what meth was all about. But he refused to let me try it. He let me stay and watch only if I agreed that I would NOT try it. They proceeded to get high and sped up and whatnot. Eventually I left, but from that moment on I wanted desperately to try this drug and see why their faces looked so happy.
My chance came a few weeks later. Dave decided to do a half gram by himself, and I could sit around and smoke pot if I wanted. I decided to stay, plotting to bug him about it until he let me try it. I insisted enough that he finally let me try it. he was high anyway, and things look different when you're that high.
We agreed that I would be allowed 5 hits from the pipe, and then I would be cut off. This was Dave's way of trying half-heartedly to protect me. After about 3 hits, the effects became very noticeable. I felt excited, happy, and energized. I couldn't stop smiling and telling jokes back and forth. Dave and I sat and talked nonstop between hits. I have also never drank so much water in my life. No amount of water could quench my thirst, apparently. I also noticed on one of my many bathroom breaks that my sack and penis had shrunk substantially. Dave said this was normal. Normal, too, was the insane sweating and gum-chewing.
I did the other two hits, and Dave said no more. I was devastated. The shit was so good. My whole body was overcome with energy and well-being, how could he take this away from me? Eventually he decided that since we were already high, it'd be rude to cut me off. Funny how that logic works. We smoked all through the night, with Dave carefully showing me how to hold the pipe and lighter so as not to 'torch' the meth. It's insane how it affects my body. No matter how much I inhale, the smoke never hurt my lungs, and I feel like I wanna suck on that pipe forever. I was overjoyed by everything, even the smoke swirling inside the pipe made me happy.
Between loads, we took breaks and played Playstation aggresively. The game looked so much better. Life in general was great. We set a time for me to leave, because I felt like I could never leave. Finally we smoked the last load. I was heartbroken to see it go, but at the same time extremely amped up and happy. I finally left at around 4AM. We had smoked for about 4 hours. Dave said I should expect to be up for a while, which is why he saved some for the next day. He saved some!!! I was overjoyed. I felt like there was no way I could wait until the next day. We had to work the next day, but I had no idea about the comedown so it didn't matter to me.
The Comedown. Oh God. I have never felt so exhausted, stupid, and drained in my life. Everything was drained: my mind, body, everything. I felt like I would never be happy again. I just sat around and played on my computer, waiting for sleep. Sleep never came, I ended up staying up until the next day. By then, I was only living for the few loads Dave had saved. My reason for being was the fact that I would be all shiny and new in a few hours. We arranged to meet at his house around noon, or earlier if I felt really bad. I arrived promptly at 11:30. Just walking the steps up to his apartment felt like it could kill me, I was that tired. I walked in and found a zombie looking back at me. Dave's eyes had huge circles under them, and his face showed no signs of life or emotion. I was horrified when I realized I looked just like him. But, who cares? After a load, I felt 'normal', like I'd never even stayed up. Two more loads, and I felt like I could work for a week lifting heavy machinery.
At work, I was talkative and bright. I worked faster than I've ever worked. I felt like I wanted this feeling to last forever. After lunch, I started to come down again. Bad. I had no idea of how stupid it was to head off to work looking and feeling this way. I stuck it out for the rest of the shift, and when I got home I ordered a large pizza and ate it all in one sitting. The hunger was intense. The food tasted like heaven. I was so glad to be home.
That night, I slept deeply for what felt like a week. I woke up groggy still, with one thing on my mind. When would I do it again? To say this drug is addictive is a huge under-statement. There are no words. It takes over everything. That year Dave and I did dope about once a month on weekends. I lost a lot of weight, which just gave me another reason to do it. The mind creates reasons to justify it when I'm craving it. I was high pretty often, which just became my reason for being on a day-to-day basis. If Thursday was a bad day, it was okay because Friday I would fly. This went on for months, until we agreed to stop for a while. In my mind, ' a while' had meant a few hours, so I was pretty devasted when Dave suggested we just stop for good. I agreed, but over the next few weeks I just bought my own and smoked alone. Being alone became the best, there was no one around to control me or tell me to slow down.
As I write this, I'm still not done with Meth, but I have gone as long as 3 months without it. My life has been changed completely. In the back of my mind I always have a little voice suggesting we get some shit. I have learned how to handle being high on a day-to-day basis, so there are times when I will be high for days at a time. It is the highest I've ever been from any drug, so I briefly tried Coke to see if that could replace it. That backfired, and here I am, broke and tired mentally. I used to think that I could handle the cravings, and that I could limit myself to once a month or less, or maybe even stop if I wanted. That has proved to not be true.
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