DreamScapes Became Nightmares
Honesty On Drug Addiction
Well I haven’t felt this urge since I was seventeen and just for your own reference I’m now the ripe old age of 21. I know, a true golden girl.
Humour aside, it's a mask for my vulnerability.
Dearmoured, here I am typing what may just be the most honest piece I’ve ever written. I could try and deflect, although for the same reason I’m typing like I have no other purpose but to type this, I don’t want to hide anymore.
I considered writing this in anonymity and just posting it on a blog no one ever reads. That actually defeats the core reason of its existence and the only desire I have for anyone reading this is to loose any stigma they carry towards the topic Im about to divulge.
Stigma in this topic creates a darker reality than acceptance ever could dream of manifesting.
Enough fucking beating around the bush.
I am an ex drug addict, not only that, I am an ex methamphetamine user. It's out.
If you're judging me right now that's actually natural and totally okay. All I ask is you listen to me and then reassess your notions once you finish my piece, Before I became an Ice addict, I’d only ever touched Alcohol albeit very heavily, and smoked Marjuana maybe three to four times.
My point is, I feared ice addicts, actively kept away from the drug and regrettably judged people for choosing to do something they knew to be so dangerous, illegal, expensive and addictive before I fell into its mouth that kissed every open festering wound with an insidious tongue that strangled every doubt with lies about eradicating myself for the better.
I don’t want in any shape to shed a positive spin on using this substance in this article, rock bottom has basements they’ll find you on this drug.
Don’t start it. It is one of the only things in life people don't often seek the first time they try. It finds you. If it does, I only honestly pray you have the power to say no, or find freedom after you're selected.
Freedom is always possible, your brain shapes every sensation of reality you feel, see,touch, hear, notice. Recovery is possible.
I’ll write about recovery in future, when I know the roads ebbs and flows in more translatable detail. Right now, I want you to see the non censored version the honest ‘how’ and the honest ‘why’.
My rationale for becoming addicted to crystal meth is two words : Sad and lonely. The simplistic child like words sum it up.
Been that way for a really long time guys.
Don’t get me wrong, I have beautiful moments of joy and wonder and happiness every week, however, at my core I have always been a little melancholy and at least a little bit lonely.
Not always based in circumstance of course, I just live with manic depression (Bipolar Type One), I don't really feel what I understand a normal range of emotions to be generally Felt as, it kind of either shows up in my world as manic euphoria or suicidal depression. (If i'm on medication which I am now) I feel more even and have learnt the difference between euphoria and contentment, both are nice, contentment is more easy going.
When I was offered a Meth pipe the first time just to contextualise it all, I had been actively suicidal for every hour of everyday for eight months or so.
I was also drunk because at the time I was addicted to alcohol, this began while dating an alcoholic and deepened after I had to appear in court because this alcoholic was issued a police ordered Apprehended Violence Order for Domestic Violence against me at my first rental property.
My issue with alcohol had even extended at this time to drinking cheap wine in Shopping Centre toilet stalls, on my commute home to hide from my current loving partner.
There was a time he even suspected infidelity due to my ‘walks’ at night where I’d leave our apartment to drink myself into a stupor in a car park outside of a supermarket.
So when I was offered my first toke, I was manically depressed, I was an alcoholic and I honestly didn't care anymore.
Well needless to say, I took it. By inhaling in a huge cloud of vapor.
It felt spiritual.
I felt like God had lifted me in his palm and switched on forgotten lights in my brain for the very first time. I felt like I was flying, it was the best euphoria, that touched every part of my brain and my body. I wanted to live, which was a new sensation at the time.
I made art that night, I spoke with the confidence of a CEO, and I started to feel like I’d finally found the elixir that could cure the problem of being me.
Then came what has a name, I wasn’t taught at the time.
After being awake for two days straight, talking endlessly and making art.
The ‘Come Down’ came. My heart ached, like it was a slingshot with concrete as a centrepiece inside my chest, my lungs heaved from the vapor and talking for forty hours plus, my legs ached from running. I threw up the bile in my tummy from forgetting to eat. I experienced the most dysphoric hopelessness I cried for my father.
I did not touch it again for months.
When I came back to it, I chased that fucking dragon for months, he showed up for a while. I became spiritual for a while.
The first few months were magic, I found ‘constant’ friends for the first time since year ten in early highschool, I quit my disability insurance job. I lost weight.
I have thought about it every single day since that first inhale.
I lost every cent I owned, three cars, my relationship with friends.
I missed my little sister's graduation ceremony and a wedding I won't ever attend.
I blackened my beautiful partner's eye when the meth ran out one night during everyday use, I was robbed of every classic novel I owned by users.
I lost a rental property on acreage that I had chosen to get away from meth. It reminded me of when I was a little girl playing in my grandmother's garden.
I almost lost my life, I ran into peak hour traffic during a drug induced pyschotic break.
I experienced drug psychosis, the most invasive form of mind rot .
I lost my morality in terms of what I will and will not do for money, I even considered Cam Girling (I’ve changed now).
I left my partner on the night before his Birthday because he wanted to end drug use, to visit a middle aged man's home who I don't even know very well at all, to this day. I still haven't been able to afford my loving and anchoring partner a birthday gift he has not been upset, I have deep guilt about this.
I haven’t spoken to my father in weeks.
Drug addiction is a disease. It keeps you at home, living in your own creation of poverty, living to get high, neglecting everyone and everything, and being blind to your own destruction.
I am educated. I am a good person from a good home, it really can be anyone.
13/03/20- After 5pm Today I will stop using this substance.
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