My Addiction To Crystal Meth

Methamphetamine comes in crystal, powder and pill form.

I'd be high for days, having sex with so many guys I just lost count.

Borceiuscu Papadopulus , Macedonia

Date Posted: 10/27/06

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Looking back over the past year, it's hard to work out the exact point at which a bit of fun became an addiction. I'd always prided myself on being able to flirt with the murky world of hard drugs. As a teenager, and into my early twenties, I did what everyone else around me was doing - a few pills at the weekend, a bit of coke when I could afford it, and a couple of joints in the early morning to bring me back to earth. I was more fragile than I realised at the time, but a bad break-up pushed me a bit further than I really wanted to go. I became hell-bent on destruction, angry most of all with myself for trusting the guy I just split up with.

The first time I was offered meth was at my mate's house party. I'd heard of the 'chemsex' scene, but wasn't sure whether it was just talk. This is basically when a group of guys get together, get high (normally on meth and coke) and have sex.

There were about nine of us in the room at this party. A pipe was passed around and people were smoking what I guessed was crystal meth. When I was offered a line of powder to snort, I just assumed it was coke.

I felt a horrible burning sensation in my nose, followed by a feeling of complete happiness. I couldn't stop talking, and my heart was racing. I was restless and so horny. I stayed up till the next afternoon, taking Viagra to keep the sex going non-stop. Of course there wasn't a single condom in sight.

After that first time, I vowed never to touch it again - I couldn't believe the risks I'd put myself through with all that unprotected sex. I slept for two days, but still couldn't get back to reality. The next weekend I was out again, high on pills and unable to resist going back for another taste of meth. After this my cravings just got stronger and stronger, while paranoia started to set in. I couldn't sleep, and as I lay in bed, coming down, I felt as though I was slipping into something I could never escape from.

A few months down the line, I lost my job. I don't remember getting sacked or leaving; just one day it wasn't there any more. I became obsessive. At home, I'd stay up all night cleaning, and my neighbours complained about me banging about and vacuuming at four in the morning.