Stay in School: The Story of How This Started

I mentioned as much in my previous post, but in case you missed that, I’ll say it again: my memory is absolutely horrible. I mean horrible to the point that if I’m not looking at someone, their face is just a blur in my mind. I don’t remember 90% of yesterday. I seem to have managed to remember I started a blog, but I don’t really remember doing anything else other than playing scrabble and smoking a lot. A lot of my time as an addict is no more than an empty gap in my memory; so much time was just lost because I spent so much of it awake.

But weirdly enough, I remember pretty much the entire day when I first tried dope. I know every wrong move that I made, and every action that led up to that moment. It’s going to sound almost ridiculous, but in this post I am about to explain to you how I ended up addicted to meth.

First, let’s start with some backstory. During this time, I was living in an apartment complex with a classmate as I attended college. I wasn’t actually on the lease. That would have been a lot of work that neither of us wanted to go through, and rent was already cheap. I didn’t plan on leaving the house much except to go to class, so how would they ever catch me? Yeah, dumb idea – but I’m full of those. Anyways, around this time, I had made a couple new friends, Jeremy* and Sydney*, that lived very close to my new apartment. Jeremy hated riding the bus, and lived so close that I offered to give him a ride to school since we had class at the same time and his campus was on the way to mine. He was actually in high school, but I was an idiot who was still taking 8am classes in my last semester, so it worked out.

*Name changed to protect actual identity

That Fateful Day

It all started when I overslept. I was supposed to wake up at 7:00am, so I could leave at 7:30 and have us both in class by 8. But it was a Tuesday, the first day of the school week for me, and I was just not ready to wake up. I didn’t roll out of bed until about 7:45.

I figured, “Fuck it, I can still make it.” Don’t know what could have possibly convinced me of that, but up I got, and I scurried to gather my things for class and get myself ready. Five minutes later I was out the door, and it was already five minutes til eight when I pulled up at Jeremy’s house. Shit. He hopped in the car, and on the drive back, we made a decision that changed everything.

“Man, I really hate my first period, I’m gonna get my ass chewed out for being late.”

“Yeah, that’s my fault, I’m so sorry; I totally overslept. Do you wanna just… skip first period? My first class is shit, too, and I don’t think I’d be missing much today.”

So, we went back to my apartment instead of going to class. Such a simple conversation and decision that felt so harmless at the time. My roommate, Harold*, had already left for class. The plan was just to chill in my room until it was time for our next classes, but of course nothing is ever fixed that easily. Sydney messaged me on Facebook around 9, just half an hour before our next classes. Well, he and Jeremy are best friends, and I was excited to be making new friends, so of course we jumped at the opportunity to go see him. We got to Sydney’s house, right down the road from where I had picked up Jeremy just an hour earlier, and before doing anything else, we all pulled up a seat on the back porch to chat and chain-smoke.

Somehow we got on the topic of drugs, and I was explaining to them the list of things I wanted to try – I already had plenty of experience with weed, and a little bit of experience with acid, but there were still other hallucinogenics and such I wanted to experience. During this conversation, Sydney and Jeremy shot each other a look; it was one of those mischievous, are-you-thinking-what-I’m-thinking sort of looks. I don’t remember which one actually asked, but one of them half-jokingly turned to me with the question, “Do you wanna try dope?”

Having grown up a very sheltered child, I responded with, “Well, what exactly do you mean by dope?”

“Meth. Ice, crank, Tina, tweak… dope.”

I don’t think they expected me to say yes. I think they mostly meant it as a joke, to mess with me. And for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why I had said yes; looking back at it, these two kids seemed so normal and so perfectly fine, I figured if they did it regularly and came out okay, surely I would be fine to try it once.

First mistake: assuming I would be totally fine to try it once with no knowledge or preparation beforehand.

We spent a few hours trying to get a hold of any of their dealers. Obviously by this point, class had stopped mattering in the slightest. Jeremy had no intentions of bothering to go back, and I had “better” things to do. Finally, around 11, “Iceman” answered our calls. If I recall correctly, we decided on about $60 worth of dope for my first time. Not all for me, of course – these were my new friends that were so nice as to introduce me to this drug, and it being their drug of choice, I felt the need to share it with them.

Jeremy and I left in my little car to go pick up from Iceman. I waited in the car while he went to get the dope; when he got back, he showed me the bag and let me look at it, how clear the crystals were and how much a $60 bag really was. We drive back to Sydney’s and they show me how to properly crush and cut up a line of go, and even showed me the proper way to hold the rolled bill to snort it. I had never snorted anything before, let alone crystal meth, so I was a total newb. I went straight from not even liking pot and only smoking socially, and having only ever done one tab of acid, all the way to snorting crank, with one too-enthusiastic-for-my-own-good “yes.”

Second mistake: not only doing it once.

$60 is a fair amount of dope around here. I didn’t realize this, obviously, I was totally new. I had literally only bought weed myself for the first time like a week or two prior. I was one of those poor saps people would be likely to rip off because I was so innocent looking and knew jack-shit about this stuff. After we had all done our first line, I realized, that bag still had a lot of crystal left in it. I think I did 3 or 4 lines before I went into work at 3pm, at a little gas station just a few minutes down the highway from Sydney’s. I worked until 12:30am, and after I closed down, I went back to Sydney’s to stay the night there with him and Jeremy.

Third mistake: nosediving straight into a binge.

I felt like shit after work. Thank god for Sydney’s recommendation to chug down some coffee once the come down started to hit me, or I would have passed out an hour before my shift ended. Of course, when I got back to his place, I wanted more; it felt great and I was frustrated that I had “wasted” most of my first experience being at work. Thus began my 3 (maybe 4?) day binge, my first binge on the first time I had tried it. Jeremy and I left to pick up some more, and by the end I think I spent about $180 on dope. I spent the next 3 or 4 days doing art projects – making clay figurines, drawing, painting – while Jeremy binged Devil May Cry and beat it several times. I wish I could say more about it than that, but I was too busy tweaking out with clay to pay any attention to his game (which he got peeved about periodically, because Sydney wasn’t paying attention either).

This is pretty much an accurate comparison to what happened with Jeremy.

Sydney, however… I don’t really know how to explain what he was doing. He was getting way too fucking high, that’s what he was doing. I think he honestly did more crank than either Jeremy or I did, and he was also taking muscle relaxers and basically any other drugs he could get his hands on. By Thursday night (or maybe it was Wednesday night, I honestly don’t know), he was seeing shit and talking to people who weren’t even there. He stood on the back porch smoking with me around midnight, and kept wandering off to the side of the building to talk to a Jeremy that wasn’t even there; I kept explaining that Jeremy was inside, still playing DMC, but there were at least 3 times where Sydney still tried to talk to him like he was out there. He honestly had me worried. When we went back inside, Syndey was so fucked up that I couldn’t understand a damn thing he was trying to say to me, and he couldn’t understand me. We sounded like we were just speaking gibberish to each other at that point, and I can only imagine how that would have sounded to anyone sober. Jeremy was somehow able to translate between us, and ended up having to help us if we tried to have any sort of conversation.

Somewhere around 3am that night, Sydney came in from going out by himself to smoke… and I guess was still talking to people who weren’t there. He managed to wake up his grandma, who spent all day at work and left us alone for the most part; she then came into the room freaking the hell out. Part of why she’s so strict about it is because of what happened to his parents, and this wouldn’t be the first time she’d caught him fucked up. Me and Jeremy knew this was coming, because we had been trying to reel Sydney in to no avail, so while his grandma had him in the living room screaming at him, we packed up all the drugs and anything drug related (so she wouldn’t be able to search his room and find anything), and bolted out the front door. I had my second panic attack for the week and tried to back out of the driveway despite foggy windows and panicked breathing. We made it to the red light before Jeremy asked if it was okay if he drove, to which I responded, “Please for the love of god, swap me seats and get us out of here.” He drove us to the nearby Walmart, where he tried to calm me down. I messaged several friends trying to find somewhere to go until morning, and we ended up going to visit my other nearby friend, Mark*, who I had known for years. I explained to him everything that had happened, and he managed to help me calm down from my panic attack. Before we had gone to see him, I had done another line of dope while we were in the Walmart parking lot, the first time of many to follow.

This was only the first time I had done it, and the story doesn’t quite end here. My first binge ended with the most intense acid trip of my life, but that’s going to have to be its own post – there’s way too much to cover it here.

Meth is too much fun, don’t do it.

Seriously, be careful with drugs. It starts out being all fun and games until you’re running from your friend’s angry grandma at two in the morning and nearly wreck just pulling out of the driveway.


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