When I was 22 I had just left the military. I came home with 6 grand in my bank account and hooked up with an old friend who still used meth (still does, actually). 14 days later my bank account was empty and I was laying in the garage watching the paint lines on the ceiling wiggle around, listening to the non-existent voices and freaking out every time I heard a dog bark.. I OD'd that day, right before though I called my sister and told her I loved her... I hate that bitch, she found it more then strange and came by to see me, make sure I was ok. I woke up in the ER, I had died in route to the hospital after hot railing a line fit for a bull. The doctor put me down, made me feel like the asshole I was and then sent me home once I was stabilized. When I got home, I did a line, freaked out and re-admitted myself to the hospital. The same doctor REAMED me a new one. I called my parents and moved back with them, cleaned up.. Fell off the wagon 3 times in the last 6 years, last time being over 4 years ago.. It takes an act of God to quit this drug, don't do it at the end of a 14 day binge bro. There is more to life then picking through the carpet, and your skin.
-Sunshine.