• Find All Reports by Search Term
    Find Reports
    Find Tagged Reports by Substance
    Substance Category
    Specific Substance
    Find Reports
  • Trip Reports Moderator: Cheshire_Kat

METH ** Experienced User ** Totally Freaked

smokin8balll420trip

Bluelighter
Joined
Nov 4, 2002
Messages
474
Location
Meth Metro Area
Okay, so maybe you're wondering why there's a post about METH in the TRIP REPORTS forum. Well, meth isn't usually considered a "psychedelic" drug, but you can DEFFINATELY trip off that shit. Here's my story.
First of all I'll introduce you to me and my friends. M is an 18-year-old male, 5'10' 140 lbs. C is a 19-year-old male, 6' 140 lbs. I'm a 19-year-old female, 5'6" 119 lbs.
Anyway, yesterday afternoon I was lucky enough to have $50 so me, C, and M got a half gram of really good PURE crystal meth at about 10:30 am. By 2:00 pm we had each shot up 3 hits and finished the half. And we were pretty fucking spun. I was feeling great and having a good time. I think we were all feeling great.
We were all just cruising around town in my car, killing time while we tried to come up with some more money to get to our dealer so we could get more drugs.
By 4 or 5 o'clock I got it in my head that I needed more meth and that I was coming down. Looking back, I realize now I was a lot higher than I even realized. Anyway, my brain was starting to get majorly fucked up and I just thought more drugs is what I needed.
At 6:00 or so we pulled into the grocery store parking lot and just parked and sat in the car. None of us felt like getting out. We had all been up the past 3 days. We just sat there in the car and that's when I started tripping. The lights, the shadows, everything looked crazy. Things moved in strange ways and things that weren't there appeared in thin air. Yeah, typical tweak trippin. It was snowing and for the longest time I just starred at the snow coming down.
We left the parking lot a few times to run to near by places and go by our dealers house a few times to check if he had re-upped yet. We began to feel strongly that we were being followed each time so checked it out better and discovered that sure enough, we were being watched and followed but not just by one car, but by several different ones. We began to notice that every time we parked in the grocery store parking lot, the parking lot would suddenly have about twice as many cars and they would park all around us. Then when we left again, it would thin out quickly.
So finally we got really nervous after being followed once more so the three of us went inside the grocery store where we felt safer. We decided it must be the Mexican Moffia or something like that because all these guys were Mexican. Once we went in the store, some of them came inside and they were looking at us real strangely.
Then we saw this car outside and it was the lady who's CDs I had ganked a few days before. Shit! M told me that maybe she had found out it was me and called up these Mexicans. Now I was really freaking. Even though the CDs had been trader to our dealer, one empty CD book and CD inserts were still in my car. Evidence! I told M that I had to get that stuff out of my car. He told me we were risking getting jumped if we went outside to the car, but we went anyway. I put the stuff in my backpack and walked back inside. By now it was about 9:15.
The lady in the grocery store though, said we had to leave because we weren't allowed to be just hanging out in the lobby area. M tried to tell her it was a matter of life or death and we were risking our lives to go outside. These Mexicans were out there just chillin' in their cars with their guns. Anyway, the lady didn't car and said we HAD to leave. Well, all I my tweaked out brain could think of at the moment was getting rid of the evidence of these CDs. So I asked to use the bathroom before I left and the lady said yes.
I walked in the bathroom and went in one of the stalls. I jumped up on the toilet and tried to lift up the ceiling tile to stick the stuff in there. However, it made a lot of noise when I lifted it and I got too scared. So then I opened the little trash can thing and put the CD case in along with the paper inserts and covered it all with trash and tried to make the trash look as disgusting as possible so nobody would dig through it and find the shit.
M, C, and I ran out to my car as fast as we could. I let M drive. It was snowing now and the roads were covered in snow and very icy and slick. We took off and immediately about 5 other cars started leaving too. We were followed with one right behind us. We decided to head to Wal-Mart because we thought we would be safe there around lots of people. As M drove (way faster than anyone should on ice) I found a couple CDs that belonged to this lady so I through them out the window. Then I stashed my drug paraphernalia box up under the dashboard.
We somehow got to Wal-Mart without getting killed although we managed to spin the car around on the ice pretty good a couple times. We drove right up to the front doors of Wal-Mart, parking illegally and ran inside, terrified.
However, we did not find it to be as safe and comforting inside Wal-Mart as we expected. Apparently the Mexicans had some how figured out ahead of time that we would head to Wal-Mart because some of them were already there. The store was strangely quiet considering it was only 9:30 except for all these Mexicans. M explained to me how these guys would work. They would come in, buy an item or two, and then go outside and wait in the parking lot until we came out. Sure enough, that's just what happened. A few at a time would come in, watch us constantly, buy a small item or two, and leave with it and wait in the parking lot.
As we sat on the bench right inside the store, we began to notice that the Wal-Mart employees were acting REALLY strange too. It was as if they all knew exactly what was going on and were a part of it. They kept looking at us and laughing an evil laugh like they thought it was going to be funny when we got killed.
A couple of guys walked up to M at different times and asked him some really weird questions that I was sure he was asking for a bad reason. Like he was asking M where his brother is and if he’s coming home for Christmas. And asking M where he lives and where he hangs out. It could have just been honest, interested questions, but it seemed like he wanted to know these things so he could somehow harm either M or his family.
We were afraid to use the telephone because there was constantly somebody watching us. But we saw this girl we know named J. M gave J his Mom’s number and told J to call and tell her that he was in trouble and that he loved her. We hoped we weren't endangering J’s life by telling her this.
C did not really seem very worried about the fact that all these Mexican’s wanted to kill us. M and I began to wonder if he was a part of it all. C kept going outside and then coming back in and M thought he must be involved. I wasn’t completely convinced of that, just kinda worried about it. I think it was because he thought he was dying anyway. His throat had started to swell up and turn really red. He was in a lot of pain and could barely breath. Also his chest was hurting and his veins hurt and he thought he was having a heart attack.
Me and M were seeing, feeling, and thinking almost exactly alike though which probably is what helped feed our terror that everyone else in the store was plotting to kill us. Both of our hearts were racing at 100 miles per hour. Not only were our blood streams rushing with meth, but with loads of adrenaline as well. I have never had my heart absolutely racing like that for such a long period of time.
M and I sat on the bench by the check-out-counters for most of the time while C walked around, paced back and forth, and kept going outside. It felt like a crazy night mare. It didn’t feel real at all, but yet since M and I were both experiencing it, we thought it must be. “Maybe we’re just tweaking really hard and this isn’t really happening,” I suggested.
“That would be nice,” M said.
On top of all the other crazy shit of the night, I was seeing really tripped out stuff too. Like the shelves of candy started to breath, heaving in and out. And this other whole shelf of stuff just kind of stretched higher and higher. The floor looked wavy and warped.
Then M and I decided to take a walk through Wal-Mart. I was carrying my backpack and a Wal-Mart lady stopped me and said I couldn’t take it into the store and had to check it in at the service desk. I just about freaked. Of course she was in on this evil plan and she just wanted to see what was in my backpack. I reluctantly followed her back to the counter, and probably asked her 10 times if she was sure it would be safe and nobody would mess with it. She probably thought I was crazy the way I was freakin over my backpack.
As soon as we returned to the front of the store I got my backpack back. A little while later M, C, and I all started walking through the store and I failed to leave my backpack at the service desk again. We were almost to the bathrooms at the back of the store, when the same dumb bitch stopped me again. She was very very angry. Her eyes were huge and had this mean glow to them and it looked like she was mad enough to kill me right there. As she led me to the front of the store, I kept saying how sorry I was.
Then this other strange lady who acted like she worked there, but not once did I see her in a Wal-Mart vest. Anyway, she stopped me and asked, “Can I help you find something?”
“Uh, no, I’m just looking around,” I told her.
“Well you’re walking around in here so you must be looking for something,” she said in a suspicious and accusing tone of voice.
“No, I’m just killing time,” I told her.
She glared at me and said that better be all I was doing. I came so fucking close to just screaming at her, “What the fuck is going on here? What did we do? Why do you guys want to kill us?” But somehow I managed to not say any of it. Mostly out of fear that they might kick me out of the store and I would be shot. At the time it never occurred to me that if I went ballistic in the store they would probably call the cops on me and I would go strait to jail. Anyway, so I checked my bag in behind the counter again.
I happened to mention to M how I had stashed my little tin box of drug paraphernalia underneath the dashboard of my car. He suddenly gasped in shock and fear as he remembered his little black case containing about six syringes, a spoon, and little baggies was in his jacket pocket. Shit!
Anyway, so M went to the purses and stashed it back behind a whole bunch of black purses that kind of looked similar and then we returned to sit on the bench once more. At one point C tried to convince us that all the Mexicans were gone so we started outside. Then we saw one of their cars and M and I freaked out and ran back inside.
We walked around the store again and one of the Mexican employees who had been acting very strange the whole time, turned to us and asked, “Are you still being followed?” And then he laughed. We were so weirded out by that, we didn’t even say a word. We just walked on.
Then at about 1:00 am the three of us were all sitting on that bench again and that’s when everyone started moving in on us. The exits were intentionally blockaded with shopping carts and piles of boxes. All the employees moved to their counters, watching us every moment. This one guy had put wires on a couple of the grocery carts and tried to push them over by us to record what we said. And all the employees were wearing bullet proof vests under their Wal-Mart vests. They moved in, closing in on us. There were two big floor cleaner machines that made very loud noises and we knew they turned these on so the gun shot noise wouldn’t be as noticeable. We sat there, pouring sweat, knowing we were about to be killed. They were closing in, they were all getting closer and closer. Any minute now it was all going to be over. “Good job, you guys!” M shouted angrily. “Good job!” He gave a sarcastic thumbs up to one of the young Mexican guys working there. I don’t think anybody could really hear him above the noise anyway.
And then all of a sudden everybody back away and disappeared. “This is it,” M said, taking a deep breath. There we were, sitting on a bench with not another person around, waiting for them to come rushing in and open fire on us.
And then, out of the blue, the creepy bitch that asked if I was looking for something, came over to us and told us to leave. M tried to explain that we might get shot if we went outside, but she said it was safe and we needed to go. I never saw such an evil wicked look in ANYBODY’S eyes in my LIFE! And that mean smile that played at the corner of her mouth. She obviously was just trying to get us to walk right into the trap that awaited outside.
M and C turned for the doors. “M!” I shouted, “Wait! It’s a trap! It’s a trap! I know it’s a trap!” I was so fucking scared out of my mind. I was about to just go crazy. I was shaking like a leaf, my heart was racing 100 miles per hour, and my voice sounded like a high-pitched hoarse scream no matter what I said.
We all walked outside and stood there for a moment, waiting to be shot at. Nothing happened so we ran to my car and jumped in and M started driving. There was ice and snow over all the windows so we could just barely see out one side of the windshield. Somehow we made it out of the parking lot onto the street and headed for M’s Mom’s house. We got followed at first, but managed to outrun the car. We slid on the ice several times, but made it home and ran inside. At this point C really thought he was dying but refused to let us take him to the hospital. M’s Mom tried to help take care of him.
Now, looking back at it from a sober point of view. I have no idea how much of that actually happened and how much was just the mental trip we were on. I know for a fact we really were followed, but as far as everyone in the store and even the employees being a part of it, I’m guessing that wasn’t real. The whole thing seemed like a dream while it was happening, and looking back it still does. But C, M, and I all remember it so it must have really happened.
The next day we went back to Wal-Mart to try to find the case of needles M stashed, but they were gone. Somebody had already found them. Hope they didn’t turn them in to the police or anything.
Anyway, it was a very crazy experience and the scariest and creepiest thing that ever happened to me in my whole fucking life! The whole time, all I could think was how weird and creepy it was. Drugs do weird things to your brain!
Disclaimer: I have nothing against Mexicans what so ever. I am not racist and have nothing against anyone. I simply included this in my trip report because it was a part of the story. It is not because I think Mexicans are mean or violent. Just to get that clear.
[ 20 December 2002: Message edited by: smokin8balll420trip ]
 
Good report. Reminds me of the time my friend got all tweaked out (up appox. 5 days) and swore on his life that the Man was following him. The way he said he could tell who the cops were was that they had a certain antenna ball on their car. The bad part for him is that the balls were quite popular at the time so many cars had them. Even though he now agrees he was trippin, he still feels strongly that it happened and was real at the time. Ahhh the joys of meth!
 
Excellent report! My too good friends, sleep deprivation and paranoia, often make for interesting hallucinations...
Thanks for sharing smokin8balll420trip :)
 
Wow. That was a suspenceful read. You should try geting it on Erowid. But please, Please, be careful!!!! Sleep depravation can be very dangerous, even more so when your driving. There probably no use counting all the times you were one step away from killing youself or others in this report. Why did you deside to over shoot your dose like this?
There really isent any need to say up for five days, you would have saved quite a bit of crystal and emotional wear and tear if you would just space out your dose. Going on runs like this is, as aposed to spacing out your dose, is a really good way to live a short life.
Maybe you want that, I dont know? But this is a harm reduction board and I'd rather you not die, so I give this advice. The body can take a day or two with a little wear and tear, but as you know there comes a point where it become inevetable for your body to start breaking down then your mind. Do you drink water or eat when your tweeking? Electrolights , taking anti-oxidents and eating a diet with food that will keep you going when you are tweeking can help you stay healthy and avoid some of the symptoms of futegue and sleep deprivation.
This will work best if you are on a day by day dosage patern with a fixed time, e.g. ten in the morning everyday. But like I said, if you go on 5 day runs your body and mind are going to break down no matter what, This is a recipe for a reather unpleasnt death. So please, be careful with your dose.
 
Spinal, you asked if I eat or drink when I'm tweaking. Usually I do not eat at all while tweaking, but I try to drink. However, the day that this story happened, I couldn't even drink water without gagging and almost puking. Matt was puking every time he tried to drink. So basically we could only sip enough water to keep our mouths from going totally try.
My friend C ended up going to the hospital tonight because he still couldn't breath and hadn't recovered from that night. He has a hole in his lung. M and C both say they are never doing white drugs again. We'll see...
 
Sounds like you guys went a bit hard, hey!
Be careful next time, because I've seen people's paranoia increase to full blown psychosis from about three days worth of meth. It sounds like you guys weren't too far off from psychosis land.
Thanks for posting :)
 
How are you all doing now that it has been acouple days? Is there any lasting after effects from your experiance?
 
Update:
M and C both still say they no longer care about meth and coke at all--and now make fun of me for still being a "tweaker." M is fine physically and C is doing okay. Like I said, he had to go to the hospital and has some serious lung problems, but it's not dirrectly related to our drug use on that one particular night.
As far as I'm concerned, I am fine now and fully recovered except for the fact that I haven't been able to get my hands on any meth since that day so I am feinding like a mother-fucker! It's driving me crazy. All I can think about is how to get meth. It's really taking a toll on me. I have been so depressed just because I can't get the drugs I want, that I can hardly even drag myself out of bed in the mornings because I just don't want to face another day without drugs.
So M and C are fine and enjoying life. And me--I wish that Mexican Moffia or whatever the hell it was, HAD shot me and KILLED me.
 
3 of you did half a gram just like that. not too sensible i think. as best i can remember when i was addicted a gram would last me a month.
i split with an ex g/f to escape my / her addiction. a year or two later when she is trying to quit she gives me about 5 grams of the stuff which i pass on to some mutual friends.
skip ahead another 6+ mths she gives me about 7 grams and this time i am more rational. no matter who i give it to it is just going to fuck them up so i flush it down the toilet.
now an intiguing ethical point. i "gave" this g/f more than US$1M knowing we would split within a few months but i still held the money.
skip ahead one year and she has not really touched the money but now she wants to open a bar with an estimated cost around 700k. ( she is still addicted but i am not and we have split up about 6 months earlier ). she has no experience at running a bar or any sort of business experience or much of an education either. zip.
if i give her the money, now around $1.3m, i know it will all disappear. if i hold it to protect it for her future she will lose lots of face and, of course, bad mouth me all over town for withholding HER money.
should i have given it to her or not???
BTW just ignore the email and if you are going to do meth try to limit the amount you take at once by a factor of 10.
[ 23 December 2002: Message edited by: xtcxtc ]
 
Wow...what an eventful report. It is ok to share an experience on any substance, it dosen't have to be a "trip". It is definitely a benefit to read a report on the "psychotic trip". That is unique to this forum.
I just want to say try to hang in there and I hope things work out for you.
Thanks for sharing and keep us updated on how you are doing.
 
Hey xtcxtc, I don't understand at all how one gram could last anybody--let alone an addict--a month. A gram isn't really that much. If it was good shit, it could last me a few days---but a month???? I don't think so.
 
smokin8balll420trip it was about 7 years ago so my memory may not be so good about how long a gram would last but my addiction lasted 4 years and for the last 3 at least i probably smoked > 330 days a year and all day at that.
btw can i post the email here --- i actually think it was quite funny. so should you if you accept you did far too much meth and should have gone somewhere private. it seems insane to have stayed out in public in the condition the 3 of you were in.
 
Wow.. what a frightening experience.. a complete nightmare. This can be a warning to show just how powerful the popular cheap street drug meth can do.. Paranoia and panic attacks suck :(
oh and paste away xtcxtc..
 
Top