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Methamphetamine: Stories and Letters of the Hidden Costs
by Users, Loved Ones, and Parents

    i always thought that the way my mama acted was just the way she was. but i was so so wrong. turns out that since i was born, my mama had been using. i found out when i was taken into foster care. it all made sense as soon as i did the research. the sleeping, the extreme mood swing she would have, how one day she would be super nice and calm, and the next, she would snap at all of us, including the pets! she would spend hours in her room, usually with one of her male friends over. another thing she'd do ( and i witnessed this once or twice) is she would sometimes sleep with her male friends. i have no idea how many men she slept with to get more and more and more of the drug, but it was disgusting. and she was always picking at her skin, especially her face, arms, and lips. her hair was sooo dried out all the time it looked like it stopped taking in water. and another weird thing is, my little sister was a meth baby.ill never tell her that unless she asks. the doctors saved her life thank god, but she was the result of a random one night stand. she came to the same foster home i was in. she was so tiny and so cute. she is doing wonderfully now and is adopted by a very nice family. we visit each other a lot and hang out a lot. im happily adopted as well by the best family ever. and i didnt meet my real dad till i was like 8 or 9. and he was the best man ever. he was no druggie at all, and i still wonder to this day why he never married my mama. he could have made so much difference to our lives. but maybe her drug addiction scared him. that i can understand. but he was the best dad ever, and i miss him terribly. i cant wait to see him again someday. and i imagine my grandma misses me sooo much too. i worry about her. last i heard, she was in an assisted living place. but i pray to god every night that she will have the strength to stay alive so i can find her when i get the chance. but i went through so much trauma because of this disgusting drug. i saw and heard things that no person should ever ever ever have to see or hear. ever! but i did. and because of what i know, im going to be a good strong person. and i plan on writing a book on my life. but please, to all of u out there reading these letters, please know that no matter how bad your life gets, u can always make it worse or better!!! drugs will only make it worse!!! trust all of us on that!!!! its true!!! drugs do you absolutey no good. they are cruel, mean, scary, repulsive things. if u dont believe any of us, then go to www.methproject.com and read more about it. please, they arent worth it. at all. value your life, because you only get one to live.
--L

   I don't know if you'll have any use for this, but I've read the letters on your site many times over the last few years, mostly as a reminder of how grateful I should be for the life I have now.  Feel free to use, edit, or disregard at your discretion.
    This is my experience with meth.  A decade ago, I was 19 and fairly active in the world of illicit substances.  My "specialty" was hallucinogens and I was proud of my ability to obtain obscure substances for "friends." So, when my girlfriend's 40-something year old boss asked her if I could find him some meth, I thought "piece of cake".  Long story short, in the course of my quest, I found myself in the seediest apartment I've ever seen sucking a chemical-tasting line of smoke off tin foil.  The rush was unbelievable and I was up all night talking and smoking and talking and smoking.  The next morning I drove home with a dealer's number in my pocket and spent the rest of the day pacing around my house while muttering to myself.
    This is my take home message: I smoked it only once and yet craved it for years.  Nothing else I tried was like that.  Even a couple years after, the smell of burning plastic made my heart beat faster, breath grow heavier, and mouth water with what can only be described as a form of "lust".  It was a lust that had the capacity to make everything else disappear (in much the same way the awareness of an unscratchable itch can make you oblivious to anything else).  I still get mini-cravings when I see pictures of the stuff.  I count myself incredibly blessed that I left that apartment with only a phone number, for had I left with some of the drug, I most certainly would have gone on a binge from which I sincerely doubt I ever would have returned.  Thankfully, I didn't have any with me, and as I came down, I recognized the birth of a craving that was far more powerful than the craving for nicotine that kept defeating my attempts at quitting cigarettes.  I knew-- KNEW-- that this was a drug I would not be able to quit, and I never tried it again.
    There are other developments in the story (one person lost everything, two people lost everything but their freedom, and one person miraculously walked away from an addiction), but I think they're not important.  I think much more important is this message for those dealing with an addict: it isn't about you.  If you've never experienced craving, it's hard to understand an appetite so strong that every other thought and desire fades away, but that is what you are competing with, and you can't win that competition.  All you can do is your best to take care of yourself as you offer appropriate support to the addict and hope that they have that one moment of clarity that will inspire them to fight an incredibly difficult battle.
    I know there is hope for meth addicts-- my then girlfriend (and later, wife) miraculously walked away from the stuff after months of daily use-- but it is a long, hard road.  I have had the pleasure of sitting with many meth addicts as they come off a binge and swear up one side and down the other they'll never use again.  It's a sad pleasure, sad because I know they'll use again, but a pleasure because I get to give humanizing comfort to someone's son, father, or brother.  Each time I think, "this so easily could have been me," and I thank God that he protected me from the worst decision of my life.
    God bless every victim of this horrible chemical.
-- AL

   Hello, My name is Angelique, I'm 13 years old. When I was only 4 months old me my older sister,mom,and dad moved to Hawaii, because my mom and dad were being launched out to be pioneering pastors! Two years l8r my baby brother was born. You see my mom n dad used to always get high together when they were young, they met @ age 11 (and been together ever since), they started using @ age 12, My mom got pregnant @ age 14 w/ my big brother but since my mom and dad were on the drugs, he was born premature and disabled, he was a special baby, but my mom was only 15 and she couldn't raise a child like that so she unwillingly had to give him to a foster home(she always visit him tho), a year l8r she had my older sister,and she came out fine. But I'm here to tell you that my mom n dad got sober and they ended up getting saved and giving their hearts to God @ age 19, and by age 30 they became pastors! but 5 years after living in Hawaii, my dad resigned as a pastor and we moved back to our home town in California. About a year later I was about 6 years old my dad started using Meth again, he would be out there for hours, and my mom became co-dependent to him, he didn't tell her but she knew it in his eyes that he'd been using. Soon my mom started to smoke again, she became depressed and me being only 6 was sometimes home alone watching my baby brother telling him everything was gonna be okay! When my mom and dad were gone and I heard someone knocking on the door I would either tell my brother to be quiet turn off all the lights and we'd hide for hours, or I would turn on the shower and pretend that someone was in the shower. My mom was always a good mother,she kinda slipped away for a moment but she came back, she still smoked thou, and was still pretty depressed. At age 7 I had found out that my big brother had passed away, till that day the pain still remains in me, and that guilt still lives in my mom and dad. When I turned 8 my dad started cheating on my mom,and got high with this other chick who was not nearly even close as pretty as my mom, and she had a big ugly mole on her sunk in face! I remember hearing my mom cry night, after night, and hearing the song "fallin'" by Alicia Keys on replay! When I was almost 9 we had moved to Washington state to live w/ my grandmother and grandfather till we got back on our feet! As I grew older, my heart began to harden, and I became bitter and wretched! My dad broke my heart, because he had loved that drug more than he did me. My behaver towards guys was awful, I thought that every guy was like my dad, and I was very mean! I became two different ppl, around my family I would act ok and happy to stop the questions, but inside I was screaming! I've held in my tears for long ,and bottled up my emotions, trying to play it cool when I was hurting, and hurting bad! All I could do thou was pray for him, pray that my dad would stop using and come back to God! It had been 4 years! When our prayers were finally answered! He came back! But he wasn't fully sober yet, it took time, but he got his life back together again, we won over his family, however it took a long while until he won heart over! Meth is a horrible poison, a deadly virus! It not only effects the user but it effects the people who care about them, I maybe only 13, but I know what I'm talking about, God is much bigger and stronger, with him u can't defeat this!
--Angelique