7 months of daily methamphetamine abuse or why I ended up in the mental hospital

This is a link to the story of my first time doing meth.

Stimulants gave me access to the full bandwidth of my personality. I was still myself, only better, and more immune to the bullshit of life. A few weeks after that night, I started doing meth every other day. My room mate was not happy with my newfound hobby. "Don't worry about it". I told him: "I never do it two days in a row, and I always measure my doses. I will not get addicted". Yeah, I'm an idiot. I wanted it every day and nothing was going to stop me from doing it. I've always had self-destructive tendencies. Meth helped me focus on the present, i.e. forget. I was already deep down the path of polydrug addiction. "I'm riding this bitch to the very end". I told the dealer who tried to insinuate that I was doing too many too much. It lasted quite a bit, before my mind started to unravel itself.

A new contact called me in the morning to ask for some girl's number. "Listen dude: I can't sleep. I will give you her number if you bring something to knock me out or keep me interested". I meant more Meth. He brings two Valiums and tells me to take half. I swallow both of them and fall asleep on the couch shortly after. There is a video somewhere of my two best friends carrying the entire couch and titlting it to dump me flat on my bed.

For 7 straight months, I spent most nights and days either doing meth with other meth-heads or trying to score. I never took a break for more than two days in a row. I was active in the life style and became friends with many interesting people. They were cooking it, dealing it, doing it. I was just happy to be around.

"It's because we are awake at night too, when most people sleep. That's why I look like I'm 50 when I'm really 32" - someone told me.

For all the energy that I had, it never felt like I got anything done. I forgot about university. I was not pursuing my true passions, but instead developed new ones. I had a new thing for cars that go "Vrooom!", and with sharp knives. I bought a butterfly knife and learned all the tricks. This frightened my ex and made everyone in the room nervous. I was twisted.

You know the feeling when everything seems to carry personal significance? When everyone is trying to set you up? When everything sounds like it's code for something else? It's called a delusion. Amphetamine psychosis had me utterly convinced that I was being followed and harassed by gangsters. I was constantly having fights with my dealers over their "mind games". The assholes knew what they were doing. I learned how to play those "head games" back, and how to make them feel paranoid too. It was all in good spirit, except when it wasn't.

"I know too much, they're afraid the police are going to get me and I'm going to sing". I don't talk to pigs, ya know, they should know that by now, I have too much at stake too, ya know". I said to a friend.

One time, I thought: why do all the Asians in the street have earphones? They must be out to get me and they are going to break into my apartment at any minute. I thought it was punishment for being careless and attracting too much attention. The Chinese Meth boss must be angry. I went outside and started confronting them. They just smiled back politely at me. I stopped someone at random.

"Yo! how do I make this stop? Do I have to die?".

"Yes, It's just the nature of your existence".

That fucking bum scared me more than anything. I rode far away in my car and spent the weekend sleeping on the side of the road. "You look out-of-it, cunt. You are looking at them too closely, so they must be looking hard back at you". A friend tried to explain. I found strange peace in that explanation, and became better at ignoring the paranoia.

Christmas time is here, and the city is full of colors. The colors had meaning, and there were two factions. Red & blue. I figured this out when I found two pieces of string on the floor. I picked the blue one, and they must be watching me choose. Who are they? The ones who are going to train the next Meth cook. They pick one every christmas. They want to test the nominees and the signs are there for eyes that observe. Or so I thought. Anyways, blue means yes "go ahead" and red the opposite. Everyone is clear on this.

I was on a quest hunt to find the dozen or so precursors to cook Meth. My psychosis was full-blown.

Part 2.