Showing posts with label Teen meth abuse treatment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teen meth abuse treatment. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

My Life on Meth

By Unnamed Author

LA YouthEveryone else was doing it, why shouldn’t I?
The first time I used meth was at Birmingham High. My brother Kevin had gone there and people thought I would be like him. At lunch this girl came up to me and we started talking. She asked me what drugs I used. I lied and said meth. We went to the bathroom. We went into a stall, locked the door and she pulled a glass pipe out of her bra and passed it to me and said, “You hit it first.” I didn’t know what I was doing. I smoked it wrong and nothing happened. We hung out for about 10 minutes and she told me to meet her by a tree after school and we could kick it. The next day, I started to get the hang of it. When I smoked I really got high. The world was so different. It felt like I was in a dream. Things I thought I was imaginaing were actually happening. I loved it way too much. Later I was walking home and all I could think about was how good I felt.

I never thought I would get addicted. Seeing what meth did to everybody else, I thought that’s them, I’m a different person. I saw people lose weight fast. Their teeth would rot and they were angrier. I thought I was stronger than that. But instantly, I was using every day. I couldn’t stop. I felt depressed and sick when I wasn’t high. My body told me I needed it to feel better.

I used to be this polite girl—so nice people would take advantage of me. After I started using meth I completely changed. Every day I was fighting people (mostly guys). My knuckles were always bloody. I also wasn’t taking care of myself. I wasn’t eating. I was really skinny. I was like an empty skeleton roaming the world, just taking up space. I didn’t care about how I looked. I would just throw whatever on. I loved to wear tutus. I also remember walking around in a nurse costume with duct tape strapped around me. I had a thing for freaking people out. I would jump in trash cans, say and do anything. I didn’t care how bad it made me look as long as I got a rise out of them. Nothing mattered as long as I was high.


I was talking to people who weren’t there
One day at school I was sitting in the middle of the football field hallucinating. I thought I was talking to people, telling them not to use drugs. School let out and people came outside and saw me. I don’t know how long they were standing there. Then it hit me that I wasn’t talking to anyone. It felt like the whole school was watching. I opened my eyes and saw the world for what it was.

Everything I used to love, I hated. I stopped singing, writing, playing sports and being with my true friends. I just wanted to be with people who were getting high.

I lied to everyone to hide my drug use. I only went to school about seven days a month. I made up friends to talk to my dad about so it would seem like I was going to school. I could tell in his eyes that he knew I was lying. All of us were meth addicts—me, my mother and my two brothers. I think he didn’t want to see my life falling apart, so he played it off as if everything was all right. I wish he would’ve stopped me and helped me get better.

Nine months after I started using meth, I overdosed. I was with a friend and she dropped me off on the street not far from my house at 2 a.m. I started walking home. I started hallucinating. It was scary. I was hiding underneath cars and trying to climb on roofs. I thought a swarm of cops and dogs were after me. I was running. I hallucinated that a cop dog had gotten me and that’s when I fell in the middle of street. I don’t remember what happened after that. Someone called the police. My dad was in the ambulance with me. He told me that my eyes had turned yellow, I wouldn’t stop screaming and I kept throwing up. They thought I was going to die.

At the hospital I woke up in a diaper and thought, “What the hell?” I felt like I was back to being a baby. I couldn’t do anything on my own. Two nurses would come and put me on a plastic toilet and I had to learn how to walk all over again. I had messed up my body so much. After I overdosed I thought, “I’ve just been caught for every bad thing I’d done.”