Meth slamming stories

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When my guard is down, it comes to me. It flashes across my mind, an uninvited assault, sometimes when I am beginning to drift off to sleep or, more cruelly, when my mind is enjoying a pleasant reverie.

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It is then that the dark memory rushes in like a raid. He lived in a house with nice furnishings. That reassured me when I arrived for the hookup, given that so many of the other crystal meth addicts I encountered were barely holding on to the remnants of their lives. Time, after all, is a quaint and needless concept to addicts searching for drugs and companionship.

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Like the weather, say, or our integrity. He is sitting across from me and we are naked. Seconds earlier, we had both injected ourselves with meth. The pounding rush of the drug is in full force and the possibilities feel endless. But even in my delirium, I have the feeling that something is off. I am blinking through watery eyes and have begun to focus on him. He is staring at me, his gaze fixed with an intense and completely unexpected contempt. He trembles from the impact of the meth. As he speaks, the gun the gun the gun is moving this way and that, pointed mostly in my direction.

I have no response. I met the man maybe an hour ago. I wonder if you can die of fright.

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He is sweating, and he wipes his brow with the back of his hand, the hand holding the gun the gun the gun. I am working hard, so hard, to remain calm while my body shudders from the force of the drugs still streaming through me. Carefully, I step to my pile of clothes on the floor. I wonder if I will hear the sound of the gunshot before I feel the impact. I step into my shorts, make sure my keys and phone are inside, and grab my shirt. I must turn my back on him as I leave the room. I hear him walking behind me. My skin is prickling with terror.

We make our way down a hall and out his front door. He stops there and waits silently. I get into my car in the driveway and face him.

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He stands there, naked under the porch light, without regard for neighbors who might be awake during the dead of night. His arms are at his side but the gun the gun the gun is still pointed toward me. I am shaking so badly I am having trouble getting the keys into the ignition, like the frantic scene from a thousand horror movies.

My eyes dart back and forth, torn between backing out of the long driveway and watching the armed man standing on the porch. I finally manage to pull into the street and drive away, and then the panic hits me so hard I have to pull over to catch my Meth slamming stories. I sit there for half an hour, not knowing that I will bury this secret episode for a decade, keeping it from my friends and from people in recovery trying to help me. For all my transparency about my life with HIV and even my drug use, I would not know where to put this Meth slamming stories event, how to reconcile it, when the fear and the shame will be lifted.

I will learn much later that these things take time. After my roide break, I start the car again and drive directly to my drug dealer, the only person in the world who would welcome me in such a state. When my feet touch his gravel driveway I realize I am barefoot. If you or someone you care about might have a problem with crystal meth or other substances, get more information from Crystal Meth Anonymousyour local Narcotics Anonymous fellowship, or answer this questionnaire about your drug habits.

David FawcettHelp is available. Recovery is possible. Save my name,and website in this browser for the next time I comment. Next. And there is a gun in his hand. He has not moved from his spot. In a few moments, I will have more meth in my body to wipe away the trauma. The meth the meth the meth the meth. Mark If you or someone you care about might have a problem with crystal meth or other substances, get more information from Crystal Meth Anonymousyour local Narcotics Anonymous fellowship, or answer this questionnaire about your drug habits.

Photo: Uncredited photo of Mark S. King, c Comments. By Mark S. Related Posts. Probing My Aging Penis. Leave A Comment Cancel reply Comment.

Meth slamming stories

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My Last ‘Shot’ with Meth