OzzBozz
Bluelighter
Hello.
I first tried Methamphetamine when i was 15 years old. I had tried a wide variety of substances including cocaine, LSD, mushrooms, xanax, MDMA, ketamine etc. My buddy told me it was the most amazing high he had ever tried, so i tried it. At first i had a rule, don't use more than once a month. Quickly this rule was broken and i started to use once every 2 weeks. I went at this pace for almost 8 months, acting like I was in control of my life and not slowly becoming a slave to the drug. By the time i turned 16, I was a weekly user. I also kept up with this pace for quite sometime and only used every weekend. When you do meth and you comedown, the following days are filled with anger, anxiety, and sorrow. I started to become thin, thin in my face and not healthy. By the time i was 17, my grades in school had fallen dramatically and attending a University was out of the question.
I grew up in a very nice suburban town about 30 miles East of Los Angeles. Drugs were very much available and widely used. I grew up with everything at my fingertips, yet i still discarded precious moments of education and friendships so that i could get high on Meth. Most of my friend group (about 20-30 people) used cocaine and MDMA in highschool.... but even they knew better than to get involved with a drug like Meth.
Between the age of 18-20, i stopped using meth. I was able to quit for almost 2 years without using and i actually ended up getting very fit, gaining muscle, and losing weight. It was a great time for me... i was finally an adult and i was no longer a slave to the drug. When i say slave, i'm talking about the constant thought of lighting up a bowl and twisting the pipe producing a phat cloud. I know the addiction isn't as strong as heroin, but i believe its just as addictive psychologically.
Before the age of 21, i started to use again. My best friend was into slamming it and i would smoke it with his girlfriend who didn't slam once every 10 or so days. It all started with using one more time and that one bowl... i was heading full speed back into addiction sacrificing much of the progress i had made physically and mentally. Things were getting seemingly gloomy with my "family life". In Late 2009, My parents had declared bankruptcy and lost the home i grew up in to foreclosure. My mother had been very depressed ever since i can remember but her depression grew into lay-down depression by the time i was 13 where she would spend 95% of the day in her bedroom just laying there, her overweight body growing stiff and useless. My father was stressed out having to provide all the income for my family and was working a $22/Hour job in California attempting to make ends meet. Me and my brother's worked odd jobs and assisted him with money but it seemed like an uphill battle. Fortunately, me and my brother were offered jobs trimming and working on pot farms owned by my friend in Northern California. This provided us with much needed money and time away from the rental house where my parents and my younger brother lived ( my younger brother has been severely on and off addicted to heroin since he was the age 16... we will touch on that a bit later).
About 2 months after i moved to Northern California with my brother and was living comfortably(enough for two guys in their 20's), my father came and visited me.
The whole trip was weird. He seemed really stressed out, constantly rubbing a spot on his forehead, but also was laughing away at serious things when discussing financial problems and other family issues. The morning before he left, i woke up and spoke with him over coffee and eggs. During our conversation... He randomly blurted out, "What would you do if i were to just ride my motorcyle off a cliff?". I looked at him, chuckled, and told him not to mess around like that. When me and my brother dropped him off at the airport, the whole car ride was very serious. My dad told us that we needed to act more as a family and that my younger brother also really needed our support. We agreed and carried on the conversation. We got to Oakland airport and dropped my dad off... we hugged and said our goodbyes. As me and my older brother were driving away, my older brother looked at me with a ghostly expression and asked me "What if we never see dad again.... what if this is the last time we see him"?
3 days later, we got a call at about 10:30pm. It was my mother on the phone. The sherrifs had come by the house to let us know that they had found him dead from a self inflicted gunshot on the side of the road he had threatened to ride his motorcyle off.
Life changed. When losing your parent and male rolemodel, you go through a rollercoaster of emotions and feelings. Right before his funeral, i got really high on meth the night before. No one really questioned my mindstate at the time, dealing with such a loss. The following months were very difficult but i managed to get clean again and get back onto a very healthy lifestyle and diet. I even signed up for community college and had success taking classes. Working out and improving my body and coordination helped keep me positive as well
Meanwhile, my mother was left a large amount of money through my dad's insurance policy. My younger brother went back to rehab and was living in West LA, money provided by my fathers insurance money. Out of pure shock from the suicide, my mother stepped up and acted like a functional adult for 4 or 5 months. She grew even more depressed after the first 4 or 5 months when my dad had committed suicide and started to lose her mental stability. She started to display severe symptoms of bipolar disorder and paranoid schizophrenia. She started to get 51/50'd on the regular. This became a confusing time for me... dealing with friends of the family who would call me and telling me she had cursed at them or thrown objects at them. My mother decided to re-create the life that she had taken away from her when they declared bankruptcy and bought a house in cash in southern california and also did 30grand of plastic surgery to her face and neck.
I first tried Methamphetamine when i was 15 years old. I had tried a wide variety of substances including cocaine, LSD, mushrooms, xanax, MDMA, ketamine etc. My buddy told me it was the most amazing high he had ever tried, so i tried it. At first i had a rule, don't use more than once a month. Quickly this rule was broken and i started to use once every 2 weeks. I went at this pace for almost 8 months, acting like I was in control of my life and not slowly becoming a slave to the drug. By the time i turned 16, I was a weekly user. I also kept up with this pace for quite sometime and only used every weekend. When you do meth and you comedown, the following days are filled with anger, anxiety, and sorrow. I started to become thin, thin in my face and not healthy. By the time i was 17, my grades in school had fallen dramatically and attending a University was out of the question.
I grew up in a very nice suburban town about 30 miles East of Los Angeles. Drugs were very much available and widely used. I grew up with everything at my fingertips, yet i still discarded precious moments of education and friendships so that i could get high on Meth. Most of my friend group (about 20-30 people) used cocaine and MDMA in highschool.... but even they knew better than to get involved with a drug like Meth.
Between the age of 18-20, i stopped using meth. I was able to quit for almost 2 years without using and i actually ended up getting very fit, gaining muscle, and losing weight. It was a great time for me... i was finally an adult and i was no longer a slave to the drug. When i say slave, i'm talking about the constant thought of lighting up a bowl and twisting the pipe producing a phat cloud. I know the addiction isn't as strong as heroin, but i believe its just as addictive psychologically.
Before the age of 21, i started to use again. My best friend was into slamming it and i would smoke it with his girlfriend who didn't slam once every 10 or so days. It all started with using one more time and that one bowl... i was heading full speed back into addiction sacrificing much of the progress i had made physically and mentally. Things were getting seemingly gloomy with my "family life". In Late 2009, My parents had declared bankruptcy and lost the home i grew up in to foreclosure. My mother had been very depressed ever since i can remember but her depression grew into lay-down depression by the time i was 13 where she would spend 95% of the day in her bedroom just laying there, her overweight body growing stiff and useless. My father was stressed out having to provide all the income for my family and was working a $22/Hour job in California attempting to make ends meet. Me and my brother's worked odd jobs and assisted him with money but it seemed like an uphill battle. Fortunately, me and my brother were offered jobs trimming and working on pot farms owned by my friend in Northern California. This provided us with much needed money and time away from the rental house where my parents and my younger brother lived ( my younger brother has been severely on and off addicted to heroin since he was the age 16... we will touch on that a bit later).
About 2 months after i moved to Northern California with my brother and was living comfortably(enough for two guys in their 20's), my father came and visited me.
The whole trip was weird. He seemed really stressed out, constantly rubbing a spot on his forehead, but also was laughing away at serious things when discussing financial problems and other family issues. The morning before he left, i woke up and spoke with him over coffee and eggs. During our conversation... He randomly blurted out, "What would you do if i were to just ride my motorcyle off a cliff?". I looked at him, chuckled, and told him not to mess around like that. When me and my brother dropped him off at the airport, the whole car ride was very serious. My dad told us that we needed to act more as a family and that my younger brother also really needed our support. We agreed and carried on the conversation. We got to Oakland airport and dropped my dad off... we hugged and said our goodbyes. As me and my older brother were driving away, my older brother looked at me with a ghostly expression and asked me "What if we never see dad again.... what if this is the last time we see him"?
3 days later, we got a call at about 10:30pm. It was my mother on the phone. The sherrifs had come by the house to let us know that they had found him dead from a self inflicted gunshot on the side of the road he had threatened to ride his motorcyle off.
Life changed. When losing your parent and male rolemodel, you go through a rollercoaster of emotions and feelings. Right before his funeral, i got really high on meth the night before. No one really questioned my mindstate at the time, dealing with such a loss. The following months were very difficult but i managed to get clean again and get back onto a very healthy lifestyle and diet. I even signed up for community college and had success taking classes. Working out and improving my body and coordination helped keep me positive as well
Meanwhile, my mother was left a large amount of money through my dad's insurance policy. My younger brother went back to rehab and was living in West LA, money provided by my fathers insurance money. Out of pure shock from the suicide, my mother stepped up and acted like a functional adult for 4 or 5 months. She grew even more depressed after the first 4 or 5 months when my dad had committed suicide and started to lose her mental stability. She started to display severe symptoms of bipolar disorder and paranoid schizophrenia. She started to get 51/50'd on the regular. This became a confusing time for me... dealing with friends of the family who would call me and telling me she had cursed at them or thrown objects at them. My mother decided to re-create the life that she had taken away from her when they declared bankruptcy and bought a house in cash in southern california and also did 30grand of plastic surgery to her face and neck.
Last edited:
Continue to be brave! So proud of you 