This post is a bit long so if you want to skip all the details — which are primarily relationship-centered — and get straight to the advice part, there’s a TL;DR at the bottom that gets straight to the questions.
My gf has battled meth addiction for the better half of her life.
I always dabbled in drugs, and had done meth in the past. Was always one of my favorites.
First few times was snorted, then I smoked once or twice, and eventually shot up a few times. This was over the course of about 10 years.
From the first shot, I failed to understand smokers.
I thought, if you’re gonna do something wrong.. do it right!
Though I’m not sure what shifted, because now it feels like an anomaly — one where I can put down needles and live life unbothered, but the lesser rush of the twisted pipe seemingly brings me to my knees.
It’s true that many times her relapses would lead me to very slight cravings, more like a fleeting fantasy; for different reasons or for no reason at all.
But it just never seemed like an option; just an idea.
Until she left.
Briefly, but she left me. Under very vague circumstances, too. I couldn’t cope with the “up in the air” part of things.
I thought the dopamine would fill the void she left behind, so I reached out to some old friends I’d gotten high with in the past. They had it on lock.
My first thought was that it could have been me who still had reliable access to something I fucked with once or twice in high school.
The thought lingered that it could have been me; that I didn’t want it to be.
So I brought it home and I had it for several days before I finally caved and smoked it.
Only it was barely meth. N-ISO and barely got me high at all.
I knew I didn’t want this, so I threw the drugs away.
Only to buy two more bags; both fully fake.
I smoked all night on fake drugs because of the glimpse given to me by the first, shit quality bag. Fucked my body up real bad, too.
After about 3 weeks, she came back to me, and. Despite how much I missed her, I just felt like I didn’t want it anymore. Like there was nothing left to salvage.
And I suspected it was because drugs were trying to manipulate me into choosing them over her.
Knowing I couldn’t use anymore when she returned, I felt cheated out of my opportunity to get high. So I found real drugs and got real high.
But it honestly seems so much more compulsive this way than in the past.
As a kid, I’d snort lines and get jr. philosophical all night; didn’t miss it when I came down, didn’t crave it or even notice withdrawal.
Went to school the next day with what I thought was a head cold.
Years later when I shot up, I would go months before deciding to shoot up again, purely out of boredom; never to battle with the willpower to avoid using the next day.
A benzo to lull me to sleep, and the next day it was like it never even happened. Less than 10 times over a decade, including 3 of 5 RoAs — it was never a problem.
I never bought, pursued, or even craved.
Went more than 3 years between shots once. Didn’t crave it the entire time; just acted on impulse when that years-later opportunity arose.
But with smoking it’s like. I can’t put it down. Is it because I know it’s forbidden, unlike before? Is it because before I was bored, but this time I’m coping?
I get high and immediately feel like a piece of shit — a completely new feeling for me. I’ve never had to feel shame for using drugs, because my use of drugs has never harmed anyone before.
I’m not even an addict and I’m using my gf’s drug of choice specifically? For WHAT? It’s just a dick fucking move and a recipe for disaster. Please tell me what a lowlife I am for this. Please.
And I feel like I can’t tell her if I’m craving because it’ll just make her crave. I feel like I can’t tell her I’ve used because she’ll see the hypocrisy for what it is and think, “well wtf is the point?”
She has come so incredibly far, and it seems so painfully obvious that my using — whether one time or one thousand — will lead to her relapse. And she’s never had this much sober time before.
I thought I just had to get it out of my system since I felt cheated out of a high when she left.
I felt like I had to actually get high so that my brain would stop trying to convince me I didn’t want the relationship just because I had unfinished business somewhere else.
Yet I was painfully aware that it was FIXATION trying to dictate my thoughts and behaviors.
But for the record, it did work. I know now with more certainty what I want.
Only now I’m stuck laying in the bed I made, fearful I will make it again.
I felt almost nothing for her, no spark, and yet I knew it was the drugs trying to manipulate me into sabotaging a mostly good thing.
But that fixation still convinced me I needed to “get it out of my system” — to know for sure whether or not it was the drugs manipulating me.
And as soon as I got high I knew I was right.
I didn’t want this, and I missed her. I wanted this to work and I forgave her always. I felt like an irredeemable piece of shit for ‘needing’ the drugs to reach this conclusion; this conclusion that I already knew but could not feel.
But I just know.
The cravings will be intense, as they have been since the first BUNK ass bag.
The rationalization to use will be very loud, as it has been.
I am fearful that I will have weak days and I will fail to uphold my moral code. That I’ll get high and then have to avoid her for, what? 36 hours? 72?? So as not to trigger her.
And what’s worse is that I owe it to her to TELL HER.
How am I supposed to tell her?? That I’ve used her drug of choice even AFTER she finally came home to me? Because I felt cheated out of the chance when I got fake dope the first time?
She knows about the first time but that honestly just makes it harder to tell her about this time.
The worst part is, she’d understand. And she’d be hurt and angry and probably extremely triggered — and we’d understand each other better in that moment.
But that’s not enough.
I genuinely am afraid that I’m going to continue rationalizing and justifying and sneaking around to get high — I don’t trust myself.
What’s worse is I can’t do it without landing gear. Benzos or something to put me to sleep. Well that’s just polysubstance abuse hiding under thinly veiled justification, innit?
On top of that I don’t have the emotional fortitude to handle that profoundly empty, hopeless, depression that comes after a good high. That first bunk bag sent me on a downward spiral so bad I lost my fucking job.
Hiding it is wrong, I know. Especially after all the work she put in to be honest with me about relapses during her recovery.
But telling her feels like it’s bound to end in her relapse.
And the dumbest, most selfish part is that I wonder what she’d think of me.
TL;DR — How do you abstain when stakes are high?
If you had “caught” yourself before your addiction fully took flight, what do you tell yourself you would have done differently?
How would you make your self-care concerns louder than your cravings?
Why is it that I can spend 10+ years of my developing life casually using meth (up to and including IV) with no cravings or fixation, but then suddenly I cannot trust myself with a pipe? Is it because my brain is fully developed now? Is it because in the past, it was a cure for boredom but now it’s a cure for feeling?
I feel very dramatic because no, I’m not an addict — Yet.
But I can feel a fixation growing and flowing and beginning to control me, little by little. First with thoughts, then onto actions. And I just don’t think it’s fair to lean on her with this — but it still feels unacceptable to keep it to myself.
As I write this I know fully well what’s waiting for me in my car, and I know fully well that even if I muster the strength to throw it away — I won’t do it without first saying goodbye.
Most likely I’ll keep it, just in case she leaves me over the whole thing. Like what the fuck?
I just feel like I’m in a very problematic spot right now and I am seeking shared experiences.
Wisdom from those who ignored their own red flag moments and looked back on them feeling as if they know now what they’d have done differently.
My gf has battled meth addiction for the better half of her life.
I always dabbled in drugs, and had done meth in the past. Was always one of my favorites.
First few times was snorted, then I smoked once or twice, and eventually shot up a few times. This was over the course of about 10 years.
From the first shot, I failed to understand smokers.
I thought, if you’re gonna do something wrong.. do it right!
Though I’m not sure what shifted, because now it feels like an anomaly — one where I can put down needles and live life unbothered, but the lesser rush of the twisted pipe seemingly brings me to my knees.
It’s true that many times her relapses would lead me to very slight cravings, more like a fleeting fantasy; for different reasons or for no reason at all.
But it just never seemed like an option; just an idea.
Until she left.
Briefly, but she left me. Under very vague circumstances, too. I couldn’t cope with the “up in the air” part of things.
I thought the dopamine would fill the void she left behind, so I reached out to some old friends I’d gotten high with in the past. They had it on lock.
My first thought was that it could have been me who still had reliable access to something I fucked with once or twice in high school.
The thought lingered that it could have been me; that I didn’t want it to be.
So I brought it home and I had it for several days before I finally caved and smoked it.
Only it was barely meth. N-ISO and barely got me high at all.
I knew I didn’t want this, so I threw the drugs away.
Only to buy two more bags; both fully fake.
I smoked all night on fake drugs because of the glimpse given to me by the first, shit quality bag. Fucked my body up real bad, too.
After about 3 weeks, she came back to me, and. Despite how much I missed her, I just felt like I didn’t want it anymore. Like there was nothing left to salvage.
And I suspected it was because drugs were trying to manipulate me into choosing them over her.
Knowing I couldn’t use anymore when she returned, I felt cheated out of my opportunity to get high. So I found real drugs and got real high.
But it honestly seems so much more compulsive this way than in the past.
As a kid, I’d snort lines and get jr. philosophical all night; didn’t miss it when I came down, didn’t crave it or even notice withdrawal.
Went to school the next day with what I thought was a head cold.
Years later when I shot up, I would go months before deciding to shoot up again, purely out of boredom; never to battle with the willpower to avoid using the next day.
A benzo to lull me to sleep, and the next day it was like it never even happened. Less than 10 times over a decade, including 3 of 5 RoAs — it was never a problem.
I never bought, pursued, or even craved.
Went more than 3 years between shots once. Didn’t crave it the entire time; just acted on impulse when that years-later opportunity arose.
But with smoking it’s like. I can’t put it down. Is it because I know it’s forbidden, unlike before? Is it because before I was bored, but this time I’m coping?
I get high and immediately feel like a piece of shit — a completely new feeling for me. I’ve never had to feel shame for using drugs, because my use of drugs has never harmed anyone before.
I’m not even an addict and I’m using my gf’s drug of choice specifically? For WHAT? It’s just a dick fucking move and a recipe for disaster. Please tell me what a lowlife I am for this. Please.
And I feel like I can’t tell her if I’m craving because it’ll just make her crave. I feel like I can’t tell her I’ve used because she’ll see the hypocrisy for what it is and think, “well wtf is the point?”
She has come so incredibly far, and it seems so painfully obvious that my using — whether one time or one thousand — will lead to her relapse. And she’s never had this much sober time before.
I thought I just had to get it out of my system since I felt cheated out of a high when she left.
I felt like I had to actually get high so that my brain would stop trying to convince me I didn’t want the relationship just because I had unfinished business somewhere else.
Yet I was painfully aware that it was FIXATION trying to dictate my thoughts and behaviors.
But for the record, it did work. I know now with more certainty what I want.
Only now I’m stuck laying in the bed I made, fearful I will make it again.
I felt almost nothing for her, no spark, and yet I knew it was the drugs trying to manipulate me into sabotaging a mostly good thing.
But that fixation still convinced me I needed to “get it out of my system” — to know for sure whether or not it was the drugs manipulating me.
And as soon as I got high I knew I was right.
I didn’t want this, and I missed her. I wanted this to work and I forgave her always. I felt like an irredeemable piece of shit for ‘needing’ the drugs to reach this conclusion; this conclusion that I already knew but could not feel.
But I just know.
The cravings will be intense, as they have been since the first BUNK ass bag.
The rationalization to use will be very loud, as it has been.
I am fearful that I will have weak days and I will fail to uphold my moral code. That I’ll get high and then have to avoid her for, what? 36 hours? 72?? So as not to trigger her.
And what’s worse is that I owe it to her to TELL HER.
How am I supposed to tell her?? That I’ve used her drug of choice even AFTER she finally came home to me? Because I felt cheated out of the chance when I got fake dope the first time?
She knows about the first time but that honestly just makes it harder to tell her about this time.
The worst part is, she’d understand. And she’d be hurt and angry and probably extremely triggered — and we’d understand each other better in that moment.
But that’s not enough.
I genuinely am afraid that I’m going to continue rationalizing and justifying and sneaking around to get high — I don’t trust myself.
What’s worse is I can’t do it without landing gear. Benzos or something to put me to sleep. Well that’s just polysubstance abuse hiding under thinly veiled justification, innit?
On top of that I don’t have the emotional fortitude to handle that profoundly empty, hopeless, depression that comes after a good high. That first bunk bag sent me on a downward spiral so bad I lost my fucking job.
Hiding it is wrong, I know. Especially after all the work she put in to be honest with me about relapses during her recovery.
But telling her feels like it’s bound to end in her relapse.
And the dumbest, most selfish part is that I wonder what she’d think of me.
TL;DR — How do you abstain when stakes are high?
If you had “caught” yourself before your addiction fully took flight, what do you tell yourself you would have done differently?
How would you make your self-care concerns louder than your cravings?
Why is it that I can spend 10+ years of my developing life casually using meth (up to and including IV) with no cravings or fixation, but then suddenly I cannot trust myself with a pipe? Is it because my brain is fully developed now? Is it because in the past, it was a cure for boredom but now it’s a cure for feeling?
I feel very dramatic because no, I’m not an addict — Yet.
But I can feel a fixation growing and flowing and beginning to control me, little by little. First with thoughts, then onto actions. And I just don’t think it’s fair to lean on her with this — but it still feels unacceptable to keep it to myself.
As I write this I know fully well what’s waiting for me in my car, and I know fully well that even if I muster the strength to throw it away — I won’t do it without first saying goodbye.
Most likely I’ll keep it, just in case she leaves me over the whole thing. Like what the fuck?
I just feel like I’m in a very problematic spot right now and I am seeking shared experiences.
Wisdom from those who ignored their own red flag moments and looked back on them feeling as if they know now what they’d have done differently.