DOSE:	repeated	smoked	Methamphetamine
	repeated	insufflated	Methamphetamine
	repeated	smoked	Tobacco - Cigarettes

BODY WEIGHT:

115 lb

All names for this have been changed. Call me a paranoid tweeker, but that's how it goes.

I had been using crystal meth for 2+ years, but eddie, corey, and todd haven't. All they had done was the occasional bit of riddalin here and there, but that's about it. They started hanging out with them because I was dating eddie, and even though he didn't like the fact that I smoked ice (crystal meth) so much I didn't give a shit because he was expendable in my eyes. Eventually, all of them got caught in my trap and I became the teacher.

First I taught todd how to smoke it while the others watched, since he volunteered. I taught him how to fish out a half-pea sized rock out of a bag with a key and then gently tip it into the hole in the top of a glass pipe, dropping the gem to the bottom of the bowl. I showed him how to hold the pipe in his fingertips as he used the other hand to melt the substance, keeping the flame of the lighter about an inch away from the bowl so he wouldn't burn it too fast or waste any of the drug inside. Twist-twist the bowl so the melted drug slides over the glass, and when he took the flame away, wait for it to cool and harden, maybe blowing softly down the inside of the pipe towards the bowl to speed up the process.

I demonstrated with one hit, flawless and well-practiced. Twist-twist again while holding the pipe to my mouth, careful not to breathe in through the nose as to disrupt the flame melting the ice down. It starts smoking and that's when I suck in - - slow and evenly, steady, filling up my lungs to their maximum and then letting the flame go out, taking the pipe away from my mouth. Careful not to hold the drug in and I let all of it out in a mass of beautiful white, all cloudy and floaty. A vague smile jumped to my face as I handed the pipe and lighter to todd. 'Careful not to touch the bowl, man... It'll burn you. Wait for it to cool down.'

My pupils took my lesson in excellently. Within the end of the session I had them smoked up and sput outta their minds. It made it worse for me by watching them. I remembered what it was like when I didn't have a tolerance. To hear my thoughts whizzing by in my head a mile a minute, to jump at every leaf which fell in front of me, to stay up for days and nights and not eat, to go to parties on the whim. To have that perpetual shit-eating grin on my face as I felt various rushes of euphoria. I didn't get that anymore because my body had adjusted to the drug too much. I all depended on ice to make me feel normal. I didn't get that tingly feeling in my hair anymore. I couldn't just take two good hits and feel like that was enough.

They smoked maybe at the most a half-gram between the three of them during the day. I smoked up the rest. I was wanting to smoke a bowl every twenty minutes, for it felt like something was pulling on my sleeve the entire time. When I didn't get the fix I needed, I would get what we call 'elephant on the chest' feeling. It's where I feel like there's an enormous weight compressed down onto my ribcage, so horrible to where I can't breath, can't get a satisfied breathe - - that is, until I hit up a bowl and take several hits. Then it goes away.

My friends didn't experience this. They danced around merrily while I smirked and watched while I smoked cigarette after cigarette to queue my cravings; them immortalizing me because I was 'the only girl and thus the most badass one' and actually thanking me for showing them this 'wondurous' new drug.

I felt sick. So what did I do? I packed a whole half-gram into my pipe and said that we were going to go smoke more.

They spent the night together that night and I stayed up by myself in my own room, taking hits and taking rails every now and then. They were starting to come down and were begging me to come over, but obviously were still tweeked due to the fact that eddie's mom kept on coming into the room and yelling at them to shut the fuck up. It was around 4-5am and I could hear her over the phone. I felt a pit in my stomach that wouldn't going away. They were getting in trouble because of me. Fear became anger, then kept switching back and forth. I chased these new feelings down with more crystal meth.

The next morning I was all out and went to their house. They all looked haggard and lethargic, begging me to call up dave so we could rig up more speed. Since I'm not one to turn down a drug, I did it. Another gram of ice, looking like a small brick of crystallized clear rock-candy.

I feel so guilty. I feel so, so guilty. I've quit since then and have been sober since august 30th of 2001, but the three of them are still using. And getting in trouble with their parents. And begging. And threatening other kids that they'd hurt them if they didn't give them money. I feel so guilty. How could I let myself do that? I wasn't a violent or scandalous tweeker - - but I let them become some, I let them become hooked. I was the one who showed them how to do it, do it properly so they'd get addicted.

Depression, fear, tears, despair.

Took me 2+ years of that to decide that I was truly addicted. It took me a boyfriend to make me stop, to make him stop.

I tried telling eddie, corey, and todd this, to persuade them to stop. But do they? No. When they're high and just want to talk about it, their emotions go in full swing and they start crying at the horrific drug-stories I tell them, they repeat over and over again that they get it, and then the next day they buy another $50sack of ice, or glass, or whatever.

Am I a teacher of death..? Of addiction..?

I fear I'll carry that guilt forever.

Exp Year: 2001	ExpID: 10468
Gender: Female
Age at time of experience: Not Given
Published: Sep 22, 2004	Views: 20,900
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Methamphetamine (37) : Small Group (2-9) (17), Addiction & Habituation (10)