Citation: LoveSick. "The Jeans Were 2 Sizes Too Big: An Experience with Methamphetamine (exp65707)". Erowid.org. Jan 1, 2009. erowid.org/exp/65707
I have tried a few different drugs in my time. I've remained a 'light' drinker throughout the years and somewhat of a “heavy” pot smoker. I have tried cocaine, mushrooms (one of my favorite drugs), salvia, and various opiates. I have done more prescription pills and painkillers than I would ever like to admit, but no other drug has captivated me and had such a hold on me such as methamphetamine.
The first time I tried meth I was a senior in high school. At this point in my life I had only really drank and smoked pot. It was one of the shittiest days of my life. My relationship with the love of my life was over. A bitter break-up earlier that day had left me miserable and lonely. Sitting at home was not an option for that would leave me at the mercy of my antagonizing and abrasive mother. I received no sympathy from her as she was probably pleased that we had broken up. She thought he was a loser and didn't like the fact that he was 8 1/2 years older than me. Not to mention I would have to help her paint the kitchen, which I was in no mood for. I decided to meet up with my good friend Sara. She was a year younger than me but much more experienced with drugs and had a lot of connections, so I figured that we could go look for some pot and hang out at her house for the afternoon to get high, watch television, and talk about our “guy problems”.
When I arrived to pick her up from school, I was feeling a little bit better, believing that the day held promise and that I might end up actually having fun. We drove back to her house. I can’t remember what we talked about, but I know that by the time we arrived I was feeling like shit again. We sat in her living room eating leftover Domino’s and watching television. We made a few phone calls to try and find some pot but we had no such luck. I had pretty much given up on trying to find anything when she said “Let’s get some speed”. I immediately responded “Yes”. I don’t know why I said yes. I could have easily said no. In fact, I had always told myself I would never try meth. I was no stranger to the drug. A few family members of mine had been hooked on it and I knew the effects it could have on a person and their life.
I considered myself “good”. I was one of the few people, out of all of my friends, who hadn’t tried it. I only smoked pot, and that was “good”. Not that I was really that good, but hard drugs never seemed like something I wanted to get into. I was a little hippie and I didn’t want to put anything unnatural into my body. I liked smoking pot and had only really been interested in ecstasy and hallucinogenics. But reluctantly we made a few phone calls and we found the right person. Very ironic how the only person we could find that had any was one of my friends rather than hers. Her name was Randi and she told us she would sell us two 20 bags in half an hour at the gas station next to her house.
We made the drive down to her neck of the woods. Sara told me to stop at a smoke shop about half a mile from Randi’s house so we could by a pipe. She told me that this was “her” smoke shop and that they never carded you there to see if you were over 18. We walked in and looked around for a minute as if we didn’t know what we were there for. Finally we saw a little sign above a row of glass pipes in a glass case that said “2 for $4”. I thought “Yippee! What a great deal!” So we bought the two pipes, one for her, one for me. And we proceeded to meet Randi at the gas station where we bought the two baggies of meth.
It was such a rush. I had never tried a drug like this before and I was both excited and scared, not only to be buying it in such an open and public area but to get back to Sara’s house and finally try the damn stuff. We drove back to Sara’s house talking the whole way. I was getting more and more excited as we got closer. I would drive fast and then I would slow down so I wouldn’t run the risk of getting pulled over.
Finally we arrived. We went upstairs to her room and locked the door. We immediately sat down on her bad, opened up the window and she showed me how to smoke it. She took one of the pipes and slipped a couple of the crystals in and showed me how to melt them by running the flame of the lighter over and over the bulb of the pipe. She then showed me how to inhale by breathing in very slowly, holding in the smoke, and then letting it out when you couldn’t hold it in any longer. I thought the shit tasted disgusting, like gasoline or something. I almost puked. We passed the pipe back and forth and before long we had smoked a little less than half of the first bag.
At first I was unimpressed and bored. I didn’t feel anything and was getting a little annoyed that I had spent money on the shit. My friend told me “Just wait”. Finally, after about 15 minutes I started to feel something. I noticed my heart racing what felt like a million beats-per-minutes. I was talking really, really fast and found myself pacing around the room in a frenzy. I made numerous phone calls to friends and family members. I didn’t want to tell them what I had just done, but in a way I wanted to share with them the experience I was having. Every time someone would ask why I was talking so fast I would just say that I was having a really “exciting day” and that “things were getting better”. No more questions asked.
Sara and I hung out for a while longer and I then left her later that evening to stop by my work to visit with a few of my co-workers and see if I could get a chance to talk with me ex. The drive over there was amazing. [Erowid Note:
Driving while intoxicated, tripping, or extremely sleep deprived is dangerous and irresponsible because it endangers other people. Don't do it!]
Not that I condone driving under the influence, but I don’t think I have ever driven better in my entire life. I was precise and accurate and fully aware of my surroundings. By the time I arrived at my work, which was about an hour and a half after I had finished smoking with Sara, I was completely spun out of me head. My jaw was clenching and my mind was racing. I couldn’t hold a thought for more than a second. I’m pretty sure everyone could tell that I was on something but most of my supervisors and co-workers were pretty laid back so no one really cared or said anything.
After hanging around for an hour or so my ex went on his lunch break and said we should talk. Of course, this led to nothing good and I went home feeling once again, depressed and overwhelmed with grief. My emotions had been going up and down all evening. One minute I would be happy and full with joy and the next I would feel sad, lonely, and miserable. When I arrived home I could start to feel myself coming down. I didn’t want to feel the feelings of the horrible stuff that had happened that day. Not to mention, that once I was off the drug I knew that I would feel dirty and disgusting for ever trying it. So I smoked the majority of the second bag and then took a bath. Before I knew it I had been sitting in the tub for two hours.
It was now midnight and the water had gone completely cold. I had no idea I was even in there for that long. I had spent two hours submerged in a cold bath talking to myself. I couldn’t stop talking no matter how hard I tried. I kept repeating the day’s events over and over. Finally I pulled myself out of the bath and went to bed. Rather I sat in bed, totally spun out and still talking. I grew tired of talking to myself so I started making phone calls. Some people were annoyed but others welcomed my call. I basically just talked to anyone that would listen. That’s all I could do.
Finally at about 4 or so there was no one left to call so I curled up in my bed and tried to let myself drift off to sleep, but it was no use. My mind and my heart were racing and I was still twitchy and jittery. About an hour later my head started to throb. I figured that I was starting to come down but I didn’t want to smoke anymore so I would have some for the next day. The headache grew worse and worse. Being susceptible to migraines my entire life, I can honestly say this is the worst pain I had ever felt. I laid a cold rag on my head, but it didn’t help. After about half an hour of agony I felt nauseated and crawled to the bathroom. I couldn’t even see straight, that’s how bad the pain was. I threw my face into the toilet and proceeded to throw up nothing but stomach acid and some sort of white sticky bile. I laid on the bathroom floor for almost an hour shivering and shaking and drenched in a cold sweat. I’m pretty sure that I was overdosing that night considering that it was my first time doing meth and I had already smoked about 175 mg. to myself. I also have very strong reactions to most drugs.
The next day was hell. Still deep in my own pathetic, love drenched depression and still feeling the affects of the drug, I went to school. I could barely move my mouth to talk as my jaw was so sore from the clenching. I was pale and looked like the life had been taken out of me. I couldn’t think straight as my head still hurt and I would be burning up one moment and then getting chills the next. But none-the-less I made it through the school day and went to work just like any other day.
Some people, after having an experience like this when trying a drug, would never pick up that substance again. I’m not sure why I did, but over the next few months I found myself becoming more and more addicted with each passing day. Smoking meth is all I did and all I knew. Even my friends who had “been there and done that” gave me shit. I was still buying from the same girl Randi, seeing as she always had a steady supply of good stuff and she would make house calls at 2 in the morning if necessary. I guess those are the perks of having a drug dealer for a friend. Even one time, on the way over to my house to deliver a bag she picked me up a pack of cigarettes at the store because I told her I was out and needed some. Finally after months of this bullshit it stopped.
I don’t remember exactly what it was that made me want to stop, but I did. I was losing weight rapidly and my health was getting poor. Already having asthma, my lungs were being severely damaged and my breathing was getting worse. I was constantly pale and sickly looking. I remember one time after losing a bunch of weight I decided to go shopping and buy myself a new pair of jeans. I thought they looked so good and that they fit me perfectly. The next day when I was actually sober for half a second and I put the jeans on to go out, I realized they were two sizes to big and would barely stay on. That’s how out of it I had been.
I think I mainly wanted to quit because I wanted to be me again. I was tired of being depressed when I wasn’t on meth and having this false sense of happiness when I was. I wanted to have money again. I had spent all the money I earned on the drug and usually had to con my mom into giving me money to pay the few bills I did have. Sometimes I would end up spending that money on drugs too. The day that I actually quit I knew I was done. I broke all my pipes and flushed the little bit of meth I had left down the toilet.
Over the next few months everything changed. The skin on my thumb started to grow back. My face started to break out horribly because of all the toxins that were being rejected out of my system. I started to gain weight back and get back into a healthy lifestyle, eating and exercising. I even laid off pot for a few months, as pot had played a significant role in my meth use seeing as is helped me sleep. I hated being awake all night and up tweaking. I became a much happier person. I had come to terms with the fact that me and my ex were not together anymore. Surprisingly, shortly after getting off meth we reconciled and got back together and have been together ever since. It has been almost a year and a half since I last used meth and I never plan on using the drug again.
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