|Experiences of Using and Trying Methamphetamine
Trying to stop Meth? Don't READ!
(WARNING! These stories are graphic, and can trigger MAJOR cravings!)
FIRST TIME USING METH
At 3am in the morning, I write this about my first experience with Methamphetamine. Three days ago, a
girlfriend of mine had been able to buy a gram of powdered Meth for $20, so we decided, today would be
Us two hunched over the glass table and our two other friends sitting on the couch next to us in my
girlfriend's living room, we were about to snort Meth for the first time. Without even taking a breath, she
shoves her clipped straw up her right nostril and snorts the first line. She hops up immediately, laughing
and screaming about how much 'it burns'. I hadn't a clue what she meant, but couldn't wait to experience it,
so I dove right into my first line as well.
Immediately after sniffing my first line, I felt a burn as if someone was literally sticking a lit match up my
nose that ran to my eye, making it water. Then, the back of my head tingles, which spreads to the front
and soon my entire face feels hot and tingly.
We ended up snorting two lines each. Only a few minutes earlier, I'd been lying on my girlfriend's bed, just
about passed out from coming off the weed we'd smoked earlier. But now, my arms felt as if they were
attatched to balloons. I began pacing back and forth in the room, babbling on, 'I can get $40 a week, so
that would get me 2 grams and I could get 8 lines for that, and that could last me 4 days a week per week .
Upbeat, energetic and talkative, we walked to the mall and mostly talked. By the end of tonight, my jaw was
so sore from chewing the same peice of gum for the entire day so tensly, that I can barely bite down.
I was not paranoid going into the act of snorting the powder, but an incident later tonight happened which
would normally have put me into a position of concern. Instead, I was panicking and anxious. That is the
only downfall of this drug that I have experienced SO FAR ... I hope I will be able to crawl out of bed
tomorow ... Exp Year: 2001
FIRST TIME USING METH
Crystal meth is big club drug in the city that I live in, and it's often as easy to find as ecstasy. It was the
only major social drug I'd never tried because I'd heard bad things about it and seen a lot of people strung
out on meth. One weekend though, my roommate had some extra and asked me if I wanted to try some. I
know from doing other drugs that the state of mind I’m in at the time of consumption has a HUGE impact to
how I react to any drug, so I took a day or so to make sure I was in a good mindset. I read up on the
effects, checked out the overdosage, and all that preparation drama I always do since I want to be safe
when I use any psychoactive substance. Then I went back to my roommate and said that I was ready to try
I did the first bump on a Saturday afternoon in my apartment. I only did enough to fill the end of a pen cap,
but I felt the effects immediately. The first thing I noticed was a feeling of my eyes getting huge. Then my
legs started to twitch imperceptibly, sort of like I was shivering from the waist down. Then I became aware
of a quickly mounting paranoia. I was sure that something horrible was going to happen and could feel my
heartbeat race up to about 140 beats per minute. I was convinced that I was going to throw up (I was also
nauseous as hell at this point) and had this idea in my head that when I did, I would immediately die. I don't
know how to describe this sort of paranoia; it's different from any other drug paranoia I've experienced, it's
just a general conviction that something bad is going to happen and a feeling of hypervigilance, super-
sensitivity to movement and sound. Then I started to get angry. I was roaming the room like a panther with
a huge frown on my face, my eyes squinched in a scowl, grinding my teeth like crazy and basically donning
the Face of Hell when my roommate asked me if I wanted him to rub my back. I said sure because I figured
it might chill me out, but I just kept getting angrier. I felt like I could kill something, like I was so quick and
powerful that I could just strangle a man to death. Being a huge fan of the 'love drugs' (ecstasy,
marijuana), I can't say that this feeling is one that I'd ever want again.
About twenty minutes after the onset, I felt more in control and vaguely euphoric. I was running around the
apartment dancing to music. I still had that feeling of being very fast and agile, but I felt generally upbeat
instead of ready to kill someone. When the effects died off about 3 hours later, I did another bump and
received identical effects.
I am a firm believer in drugs' ability to improve a person's quality of life. Pot, ecstasy, mushrooms, and
even acid I'd recommend to most people because I feel they have spiritual and life-affirming value.
However, I feel the same way about meth as I do about cocaine: I have done it and didn't see any positive
repercussions from its use. I would not recommend meth to anyone. Exp Year: 2000
FIRST TIME USING METH
My previous experiences with drugs involved weed and shrooms. So when given the chance to try meth I
jumped on it. I had acquired this from a friend.
I decided to do it on a weekend so I would not have to report to anyone. I layed out a line about 9:00 PM. It
as long as the cap on a pen and rolled up a twenty dollar bill and snorted it. Immediately there was an
intense burn and my eyes were on fire. I was showed before to inhale some water off your fingers to help it
drain better so I did this. After about five minutes I felt a warm sensation all over my body and in my brain. I
had not eaten anything and I was in a pretty good mood prior to this. My mood was enhanced x10 and I
noticed my jaw clenching. All sensation of hunger had completely diminished to nothing.
I noticed that my senses had become sharper and my thoughts were racing. My heart was beating pretty
hard to. Compared to ephedrine it was 100x better without the shaky feeling. This feeling lasted for around
four or five hours with no real comedown. I decided to do another line around 3:00 AM anyway. This time
there was an immediate rush and I felt even better than before.
Unlike other stimulants this one effected my mind alot. I was thinking of all kinds of crazy shit. I thought
about how much I really enjoyed people and I realized how much I cared for my family and friends. Things
that didn't really matter. I decided to go riding around. (Keep in mind that is three o'clock in the morning).
At this point I decide to save what I had left because I had heard that the comedown was a bitch. So I rode
around till around 6:00 AM and still feeling very wired. My mind had pondered so many things so fast it
I stayed like this well into the next day when I could feeling wearing off around 1:00 PM. This must have
been what they meant by a comedown because I was feeling like major shit. I decided to do what was left.
The effects were rapid and very pleasing, the same as before. This last bump lasted till about 6:00 PM. I
decided it was time to go to bed. But when I layed down I couldn't go to sleep because my mind was still
racing and I couldn't slow it down. I realized how truly addictive this substance was because I would have
given anything to feel better which really hurt my pride.
For several days afterward my chest hurt when I took a breath probably do the fact that I really pushed my
heart pretty damn hard.
I decided after this experience that with all of its positive feelings that it wasn't worth it. The negative
aspect is its highly addictive. I would not even think about shooting it because of this. I am grateful to have
been blessed with strong willpower.
First time and LAST!
My girlfriend arrived home one day from work with a small baggie jam-packed with meth. We were both
disappointed.. we had hoped for crystal. [Erowid Note: 'meth' and 'crystal' are both used to refer to street
methamphetamine] The first thing we did that night was a line to figure out the proper dose. We started
with a crystal-sized line and acheived minimal effects. The stuff was yellowish in color, and that concerned
me, because, while I had never used methamphetamine Hcl before, none of my meth-(ab)-using friends
had ever bought yellow meth. The next day we decided to take a large line. The feelings were wonderful,
talking was a breeze, but the stuff had more of an amphetamine feel to it than I liked... frequently, we
became bored and needed to change scenery - something that never happened to me on crystal. When
we started coming down, we took a medium-sized line. Two hours later, another.
We went to a local club, at this point, because it was drum and bass night. As we arrived there, I started to
notice trivial things about the club (and clubs in general) that I didn't like which I wouldn't notice sober. The
entire 'meat-market' atmosphere turned me off. This club, in particular, seemed to have minimal dance
floor (all of which was occupied by one breakdancer)- and we weren't there for any social calls. We got by
dancing out on the patio for a while, but boredom set in quickly. We decided to leave. As we arrived home
about three hours after the last line, we took another one. This one was too small to do anything but
emphasize the amphetamine side of the crank. We couldn't figure out what to do. Whatever we decided to
do, we would become bored minutes later. This lasted for two hours. After this, we decided to do one more
line. Again the same results.
By this time, the sun was starting to come up (always depressing, as it marks the end of an experience
usually) and we wanted to see what it was like tweeking in the morning. A large line was drawn. Up the
nose it went and I went back to that place where I think about six inches above my head. We walked to a
secluded bench in our apartment complex and talked for two hours. This time, the experience was much
more like crystal, although the summer heat caused my rush to stay for a very long time... i never really
got to a comfortable 'feel-good' spot..just a heavy rush. We went back home after two hours and did a
moderately sized line. The bench seemed like a fun place to be, so we went back out there. (In retrospect,
this is the last place I would have wanted to be... I contracted heat-exhaustion) Again, the rush
predominated the experience, and about two hours later we went back home. It was 11:00 at this time.
I came home in a 'thinking outside of my skull' state, and it persisted for about an hour. It was then that I
thought something was wrong. Sobriety (mental, not physical) returned around 12:00 at an alarming rate
(within about five minutes). My pulse was extremely fast (about 130), and I had a temperature of 103.3.
Immediately, I drank a couple of glasses of cold water and took a ten minute cold shower.
I still had a slight temperature.
Then I started to 'feel' my organs inside me working. Every single organ wasn't working properly..they were
all stressed out. My heart was thumping very quickly, my breaths were shallow and hard to take. My mind
was exhausted. Muscles all over my body were cramped. Over the next two hours, I experienced the worst
pain of my life. This was the first time I had ever said 'I would rather be dead' to myself. Around two, I
decided to try to sleep it off. I couldn't. I got up, and my heart-rate instantly shot up. Being the fool that I
am, I started to panic, and that raised my heart-rate to unheard of levels (I wasn't able to acertain what).
Again, I ran to the cold shower and practiced deep breathing to slow my pulse. My pulse dropped almost
instantly to its pre-panic levels. I still couldn't sleep.
At about five o'clock I started to feel my muscles slowly relax. Then, each of my organs 'quieted' and I felt
like I may be able to sleep. I couldn't. Twitches, chills, and a fever came on and persisted until about 11:00
that night. I had been delerious from exhaustion since about six- I was confusing my closed-eye (dreams)
visuals with reality. I couldn't remember the word 'amphetamine', which is strange as I am a self-professed
'drug-nerd'. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that I was a trucker at a truck stop trying to ship a box by
six in the morning. The woman lying next to me was a gas-station (made of volumetric flasks somehow). In
reality, I was lying in bed next to my girlfriend after having set the alarm to six in the morning. She was
rubbing my back, trying to calm me. I fell asleep around 11:00. I woke up at five. The next day, I was too
weak to go to work. After eating several peaches and apples, I felt a little bit better, but not much.
(My girlfriend had experienced the same thing, chills, twitches, fever, and all- and I must say that she is the
most wonderful person for keeping her sanity and taking care of me.)
This was very unexpected. In a nutshell - This was the worst experience in my life. EXP Year: 2006
METH DON'T TRY IT
Speed has sent my life on a tangent that has both been horrific, and tantalizing. I've come in contact with
people I never would of dreamed of hanging out with in my right mind. From former business' owners
turned speedfreaks, to the lowly dope fiend who thrives on 'chasing the high.' The foreground and setting
of my abuse has been as equally diverse; ranging from houses along the beach to macabre street alleys.
I've been to heaven.. and hell, within a short span of 4 years.
My romance with speed began when I was sixteen. I was a pothead, but I always was open to new things.
The death of my grandmother provided the perfect opportunity for the onset of a speed addiction. I was
overwhelmed with grief and guilt, and a girl I was seeing at the time offered me a quick solution to pain.
She took me to an apartment complex and had me wait in the car. I sat waiting there for what seemed an
eternity when suddenly she emerged, energetic and enthuthiastic. She talked relentlessly on the way back
to her place,about all types of shit I didn't care about. When we got into her place she pulled a small
baggie of semi-transparent crystals. She hooked me up with a rail and I was on my way into a euphoric
journey of assurance and pleasure. I felt this tremendous sense of power, that I could do almost anything.
Energy surged through my body and I felt great insight in meaning of existance, and of good and evil. I
talked of the impact of grandmother's death and of unrealting things, yet I still managed to tie them all into
one conversation, pausing only for a hit of a cigarette, or another rail.
It was the greatest moment of my life. I bonded with her emotionally in ways I never could have thought.
The way it felt going up my nostril didn't bother me either. Not even the burning or the horribly bitter taste
of the drip going down my throat. I loved every second of it. That is, until the sun came up. What
proceeded to happen was a living hell, my life was transformed into a meaningless void, fueled by an
unholy passion for the instrument of my self-destruction. My first experiences were endurable,the
comedowns were bad, but not as horrid to those to come. My relationship with the girl went sour, severing
my speed connection. But not for long.
I met another girl from a mutual friend. We hit-off, especially when we shared our interest in
methamphetamine. She told me her ex was a connect, and a reliable one with good shit. I asked when she
could call him.. she said right now. He came over and he brought his glass pipe with him. Smoking speed
elevated me to new dimension in meth use. When I jumped to my feet after smoking a bowl I felt like I had
enough energy to walk across the whole city. When I took steps my feet felt light almost. But what captured
my attention the most were the immense, billowing, clouds of smoke. How they toppled through the air,
thick, and heavy. Marijuana was all but a vague memory to me by now. I had found my niche. Smoking
speed through a glass dick.
From this point on I was no longer interested in the deep conversations which was engrossed my time on
the drug. No, I found a science in blowing speed pipes out of glass tubes containing small decorative
flowers(found at any liqour store). I used a tourch which my dad had in his tools. I also discovered speed
bongs (Hawaian punch, sunny delight, or water with a cough drop were my favorite liquids used) which
added new variety. I was also introduced to the 'hot rail.' The act of heating a glass tube and then railing a
fat line, smoking whatever speed had melted on the sides the way up. Thus the meth hits your systems
through both methods simultaneously.
Slowly my social life began to revolve around the drug. I became a recluse to my friends, isolating myself
in my room( which was actually a guest room converted into my kick-back spot). Many of close friends
remained by me. All tokers, they criticized my habit, but after a few months I had them doing it too. How
could one resist?
My relationship with my dad faltered. I avoided him at all times, making cameo apperances in his room late
at night to steal 20's from his wallet. He was a broken man after things with my mom and all I did was add
to his grief. But being emotionally distant he dealt with it by isolating himself thus furthering the decay of
our relationship. With my new hobbie so prominent, I found no use for the material things of my youth. I
began clucking(trading) all of my valued possesions. My comic book collection, which had accumlated into
skyskrapers of vintage issues over the years. My old accordion(i took lessons as a child), even the TV and
VCR from my room. I didn't need that shit anyway, its not like I used any of it.
I kept my computer though, I needed it while I stayed up all night to 'research.' In time I detected a 'flaw'
and decided to take the hard-drive apart to see what was wrong. By the next morning I was already coming
down and I didn't have the patience to put it back together. So I clucked what was left for half of a teener.
Soon, my dad decided to get away, and went on vacation. And I decided to go off the deep end. I quit
going to school completely, and dedicated all my time to smoking speed and my numerous 'projects.' At
night the house was packed with tweakers, and Ilet my connect crash at my place for a few nights. While I
was consumed with hitting the dope pipe, they went through my dads things, looting irreplacable
sentimental items of my family's past. My next door neighbors became concerned with the late night traffic,
and the police began to frequent the area(which didn't help my skecthing any). My aunt, who was
assigned check-up on me, was concerned as well. Between work she would come by, and she began to
notice my behavioral changes. And my ever increasing paranoia at her visits. I lied to her about school,
and my late night activities. I thought I was getting away, but was I wrong.
One night, in a craving for more dope, I broke into my dope-friends room in search of more shit. Coming
across only empty baggies, I finally found a resinated speed bong, and I decided to drink the water out of
it. I nearly through up my intestines. Stumbling home I began to sketch like never before. I had smoked
bunk(bad) shit earlier and if that was bad enough, I had been without sleep about a week. I began
halucinating, seeing demonic images reflected on glass surfaces, even in the mirror. I saw phantom like
shadows moving about the house, and a 12-inch tall dwarf staring at me at the foot of the couch. I tried
speaking to it but my mouth could only verbalize jibberish. I began to panic. My grandmother had
influzema, and her breathing machine was still in the living room. I turned it on and put the hoses in my
nostrils. Slowly clean air poured into my nose. Soon I began to ease off, and slowly I passed out.
My bad experiences with meth increased, but I didn't care. I was in a whirl-pool of self-loathing and digust.
When my dad returned he found all of his power tools missing. Finding me passed out on the couch he
grabbed me by the collar and gave a blow to the side of my head. I fell to the floor and he told me to get
the fuck out or he was calling the cops. Within 10 minutes, I had my back-pack, and a few pairs of clothes
and I was gone. What was worse is I didn't care. I was actually enticed with the new idea of freedom. Home
for me now was bumping from house to house. Sofa-city. Burning bridges everywhere I went. I stayed with
one friend, and after turning him on to dope, I decided, as a going away present; to steal his ninentdo and
a few other things. My life was shit. I had self-inflicted wounds on my skin from trying to dig imaginary bugs
out with razor blades. I had lost lots of weight. I became more uncomfortable around people, and surfaced
only at night. Night became my comforter, like a vampire I scorned the day because it represented all that I
hated. I roamed the streets with a girl I turned on to speed, and we would shelter wherever we could.
One night we even broke into a boat out side a house and stayed in there, smoking speed and peeking
out the window in paranoia. My idea of partying had gone from underground parties with blarring house
anthems to smoking meth in gas station bathrooms out of a broken speed pipe stem. I had only the girl,
Alicia, as my companion at this dark time.
Alicia grew tired of the shit, and her company became more of a drag then anything else. I encouraged
her to go home, and eventually left her in the parking lot of a bowling alley for what I thought was her own
good. I found myself wandering aimslessly that night. Spun out, and lost. At that moment enlightment
happen. For some reason I got a compulsion to go to my mother's, whom I hadn't spoken to for a few
years. I walked clear across town to her house, and arrived at 1:00 AM. I had no expectations, my mind
was blank and I was empty of all feeling. I just knew I needed help. She welcomed me in a emotionally tear-
jerking embrace, concern pouring out her very soul. Her and my stepfather were recovering heroin addicts
(I had always carried resentment towards her because of her addiction, now look at me). They had me
stay in a recovery program connected with a church which changed my life. I was a realist, and naturally
cynical towards faith oriented religion, but here it was different. I met tons of people through programs and
rehab, from all walks of life. All who had hit rock bottom, all in a wonderful process of transformation. I dont
have time to get into if but it changed the whole course of my drug use.
Now, I'm sober for 5 months, I've relasped a couple of times since being introduced to programs but now I
have the support base and the accountability to pull myself out when I do fall in the hole. I am now
reconciled with my father and his side of the family as well. One of the hardest things though is to see the
damage I have done now that I am in the aftermath. I have taken years off my dad life, and destroyed
much of his livlihood, if not all. Many of those I turned on to speed are full blown dopefiends, and not to
mention all the emotional baggage I have now. Meth changed my life, for good or for worst. But mostly for
worst. However if not for Meth, I wouldnt have been able to become involved in what I am doing today. Now
dont get me wrong, I know meetings and programs dont work for everyone but they sure as hell helped
me. Im sure Id be dead right now had it not been for this 'second chance.'
ADDICTED FROM FIRST TIME
I had many times done meth, but this was the first time I realized how bad and evil the drug really was. This
drug can make you leave everything and f**k over people you are friends with. Something that no one
knows about this drug or if they have never experienced an addiction is it isn’t something you can just do
and not think about until you are completely satisfied with how high you are. Almost immediately after I just
get done doing some I am already craving for more. Once I get to the point I feel good after a while I start
to come down and I want it even more.
It was around 3:15 on a Friday and I talked to a kid in school who told me he was looking to buy some
tweak (meth) from me. I didn’t sell but I had a good connection with a few people and I had no money so I
knew if I got this for him I could do some of it before I gave it to him. I could get it anytime I needed and this
seemed perfect. He gave us the money and we went to a house and got the crystal. Me and my friend had
already decided earlier we would do some after we got this because at this point we pretty much had done
it enough that meth had us by the balls.
I was in a horrible mood the entire day and I was hoping like usual this would make it go away. My friend I
was originally with left to go home for a little bit and I went to go hang out with my other friend. I told him
the situation we were in and we couldn’t even wait for the original friend to come back over so we did
about 1/8 of the gram and a half on a foil and I was feeling much better almost in a completely normal
mood but starting to feel the effects. This was at around 5:30. Finally my friend gets back and we ditch the
house we were are at and the people there to go do what we promised to be just one foil.
At 6:00 we make the first foil of the what is soon to be a very long night. We decided we would just do one
but after we did it we thought hey one more one hurt. At this point I had a very nice feeling and sensation.
We were concerned with the person I was suppose to give the sack to that he would realize it was skimpy
but he had never done it before so we assumed everything would be alright. It was about 7:00 and by this
time we had done many foils and came up with a plan we would crush up a caffeine pill and put it in his
sack and tell him to snort the 'tweak'. After more foils and about an hour later we decided to give him $5,
four cigarettes, Syringes, a couple of fat bowls of weed and about a gram and a half of pure caffeine pills.
We kept telling our selves we wouldn’t do anymore but we couldn’t control our own minds. As the effects
increased our thoughts of regret diminished and we thought we were actually doing him a favor by giving
him all this. In the end we did all of his tweak and all then went into a interesting adventure.
Out of all the times I have ever done meth I was by far more high then I had ever had been before, It
sends a feeling in my body that makes me carefree, I have no anxiety and I can sit and do the same thing
for hours straight never getting bored. I was so calm and at peace with my self. All my feelings and
thoughts made sense I was at the point I could discuss anything for hours on end or sit by my self and just
worry about my own thoughts.
The next day my friend vowed to never do it again. He was sick the rest of the day and that night I was
already trying to gather money and get with some other friends to go down and buy more. I had a job
interview that morning and I did horribly, my tongue hurt and my jaws were swollen from moving my mouth
so much that I could barely talk and I mumbled the entire time. I have this really bad eye twitch that
happens and when I am high it multiplies and I concentrate on blinking and moving my hands and lips. I
kept chain smoking and chewing gum because I had to move.
Never do this drug, everything about it I love. If I don’t like something about it over time it suddenly doesn’t
seem so bad. The taste is amazing, the way it makes me feel even folding the foil for it I enjoy. After my
first couple of times doing it I would really need the feeling. I wanted the feeling, wanted to burn it on the
foil and inhale the smoke. I would randomly get the tweak taste in my mouth just from sitting in class. Now
sometimes I just can’t get it off my mind it just lingers there waiting for that feeling. If I even see foil or
anything that resembles foil the first thought in my head is tweak. I have often wondered how long the
thinking about it would last if over time it wouldn’t be in my mind anymore.
Here I am preaching about never to do it and searching my pockets for my dealers number all at the same
time. I don’t like addiction and I am not even that far in it. The first time I smoked I got advice I will never
forget: ‘Don’t let it control you, tweakers are some of the dumbest people I know.
My Experience with Methamphetamine Psychosis
Just thought I would share an experience I had once with meth. It might help people avoid getting into the
same situation. As it turned out, it was one of the last times that I used speed, because it made me realize
some things about that particular substance.
I'd been using speed pretty regularly for about a year. I was using it all the time or anything, mostly
because I couldn't afford that, but I was binging pretty hard every few weeks. This particular binge started
at a party - it wasn't really my type of party, and I was bored and ready to leave when I saw someone I
knew who sold speed there. We discreetly took a trip out to his car and I bought three eightballs from him.
We each did a few lines in his car, then went back to the party, which was MUCH more enjoyable then.
To make a long story short, I went on a particularly long binge - when I was done with the three eightballs I
just kept buying more. All in all, I was up for eight days. On the evening of the eighth day I snorted the last
of my speed and went with some friends (who didn't do speed, but were OK with me doing it) to the local
street fair. I was really out of it by then, nothing was really making sense, so I just kind of kept quiet and
listened to my friends talk out on the street. Gradually I started feeling weirder and weirder, and I started
seeing weird visual effects. The pavement on the street was shifting around, people's faces would become
distorted if I looked at them for more than a few seconds, and (this was the most unnerving) I saw huge
bubbles everywhere that made me feel like I was underwater. It reminded me visually of LSD, but the
mental effects were not similar - I was just extremely confused, irritable, and scared.
My friends eventually noticed that I was sort of freaking out, and they kindly took me back to the car, then
drove me somewhere safe where I could relax and try to get a grip. I really, really wanted to sleep, but I'd
been doing speed long enough to know that I wasn't going to able to do that for quite a while, so when we
got to one of the friends' home I just sort of huddled on the floor in misery. My friends later said that I just
sort of sat there and glared at them, and snapped at them angrily when anyone said anything to me.
Eventually the hallucinations stopped, and I must have looked better because at some point someone took
me home. I was up all that night, slept all the next day, and woke up feeling...not much better. I wasn't
hallucinating anymore, true, but I was still extremely irritable and aggressive, which is completely out of
character for me. This mood lasted for almost a week afterwards, and a few times the hallucinations came
back briefly, although they were never as intense.
This episode really made me think about my use of speed, and as I said it was one of the last times that I
used it. I felt absolutely horrible that I was so rude towards my friends, especially when they were being so
kind and caring towards me. It was like I had no control over what I said, because the buzzing in my head
made it impossible to filter myself. I was very lucky to have such good friends, and even luckier that they
forgave me so easily for how I'd acted towards them. I feel that there are many drugs that are beneficial to
the user overall, but I think that speed does nothing but harm to mind, soul, and body. I stay away from it
now, even though I sometimes still crave it, five years later.