This is Rebecca’s true story of Crystal Meth addiction. How a girl, a normal girl can become addicted to drugs. There was no abuse in the home. She did not suffer any trauma. A story about one girl’s (like many) experimental behavior turned into a nightmare.
I started by asking, what is meth and how dangerous is it? This was her response.
This is the question I asked myself when I first used. I was 16.
It all started when I got caught smoking weed in the bathroom at school. It was no big deal… so I thought. I had been doing it for a few months. The school called, the principal, Mrs. Nether. I will never forget her name. She told my parents “She has been hanging around the wrong crowd, not her old friends. I noticed she had been acting a little different but I didn’t think it was this.”
Once home my parents were very upset, to say the least. My dad was yelling while my mother cried. He said “You’re going to rehab! PERIOD!” my mom nodded in agreement. I refused and ran to my room slamming the door behind me. I contemplated running away, but where would I go? So, reluctantly… very reluctantly I went to rehab. I remember the day I left. I was steaming! I would not speak to my parents, I wouldn’t even look at them. When they dropped me off my father tried to hug me, I just stood there. My mother drapped her arms on me and wept. Again, I just stood there, I was even a little annoyed with her. If you feel that bad, why am I here?
I didn’t take the process serious at all. There were a few good points here and there but I couldn’t really relate. But then there was this guy…Kevin. I thought he was everything. He was so hot! He was cool! I was permitted to leave after 30 days. I gave Kevin my number and made him promise to call the second he got out.
Two months later Kevin called. I was so excited! I asked my parents if I could go meet him at his friends, they were giving him a coming home party. Reluctantly they agreed. There was music, dancing, and everything you could think of… weed, alcohol, pills, etc. You name it, it was there. Then his friend Brett pulled out these crystal looking things. I had never seen anything like this. He called it “ice”. I asked what it was they said meth. I was unsure how to “use” it but didn’t dare ask. I already felt dumb enough for not knowing what it was.
The device used was similar to the ones we used to smoke weed. A lighter was placed under the meth. As it melted a smoke appeared, circling inside, as if dancing for the onlookers as they drooled. Something smelled as if it was burning… probably our futures. Kevin looked disappointed when I declined. I shrugged my shoulders thinking, what is Crystal Meth and how dangerous is it? I quickly changed my mind before that glimmer in his eyes was completely extinguished. I gave the bong a long stare and watched my potential dance in the smoke disappear. I sucked in the toxic fumes. Just like that… I was gone.
I would never meet the woman I was supposed to become. I smoked her away. I turned into the very thing they warned me against. The thing I swore I would never become. I say thing because I was no longer a person, even in my own eyes. I felt like a monolithic monster. Living only to serve and worship one god… Crystal Meth. Now back in rehab for the third time. I consider myself very lucky, better yet, blessed to be here.
During one of my random visits family was family visiting, including my nephew. I lucked up on some “Peanut Butter” moments before. Peanut Butter is the purest form of meth. It looks and tastes like the real thing. My nephew found it, while looking for crayons in my bag. He landed in the emergency room and then ICU for a month. Words cannot describe how low I felt. I literally wanted to die. I tired.
Here, in rehab, on family day. My mother crying in front of me, my father feeling nothing but disgust. After 3 years of “using” my life away, this is where I am. Now I am the one weeping. Draping myself all over my sister. She is still like a statue but her heart is racing like a lioness defending her cubs. Finally, she embraces me. I want to fall into her, I feel even more guilty. I ask her “Why did you have mercy on me? Why did you write the letter? You should’ve just let me go to jail!” Her reply “I love you! Why would I do that? I still see that talented girl that used to paint so beautifully. The girl, that even when she was high, taught her nephew how to draw a proper superhero.”
Wiping tears and straightening her posture, returning to the lioness. “But please be clear if you EVER use again, I will flashback and kill you myself.” I knew she meant it but so did I.
That girl that disappeared with a dance comes to visit sometimes. Someday she will become a permanent resident. Until, that day I will stay clean and continue teaching my nephew to draw. I’m still not over the guilt, I probably never will be. I use it to keep me strong, not to eat me alive.
All stories do not end like this. She was one of the lucky ones. Many have died from abuse of this drug. She was also very lucky not to have suffered any chronic health complications. Meth, more commonly called, is a very dangerous drug that does not loosen its grip on its victims. Most importantly she still has the love and support of her family. Family loss is actually more of a devastating loss than anything else.