I see this sort of issue and it always confuses me. For me, pot is a crazy heavy drug that fucks me out of my tree from just a tiny bit. I don't mean in a good way either. Severe anxiety, can't talk right, can't think straight, pained tension throughout my body, confused state amplifying anxiety. When I even smell pot, I immediately begin to panic, it's just a trigger but then fearful thoughts follow, compounding the anxiety--what if there is enough in the air to affect me. My solution is I don't do pot and try to not be around people using pot. It was an elegant solution, I hate pot so I don't put it inside me.
But I meet people ALL the time, like its one of the most common types of stimulant user I meet. The devoted users of crack/coke and meth. The people who are hooked on the stuff, all their energies, fuel for finding money for it. When they get it, they're wound up tight as anything--anticipation, you would think, I get that from coke, my whole body starts acting up with fevered excitement--but its not that, they're more agitated, tense, with a hair-triggered temper going on. Then they smoke or shoot, and blammo: sweet, sweet victory? nope. The world comes to a screaming halt. Everyone has to be silent, if you make a sound, you get hissed into silence. Then, they strain, listening vigilantly for any and all danger that could be apon us at any moment--in their minds. Sometimes it's cops they fear, or enemies, or people who would steal their dope or, weirdest of all, just that someone somewhere will hear them and know what we're up to. they stare pie-eyed at windows or doors, or the sliver of light under the door. Sometimes they want the door covered, or they have fits if the curtains aren't nailed down with no sliver of light getting through. I've met some who assume, a kind of global rictus state, and they perch in awkward poses, locked in rigid statue stillness, eyes tearfully wide, petrified in fear. And there is never anything that can soothe or calm or reassure them that they are safe and no one is coming to get us. It is distressing to witness.
It's sad. It seems like such a terrible, terrifying ordeal. What is just baffling is that it is voluntary. The minute they begin to relax and loosen up, they set to doing up more dope, and revert to the terrorized state of panic. This is normal everyday routine for a lot of these guys. I can never figure out why they continue to use the drugs. Hallucinogens spazz me out so I don't use them. Loved them as a kid, can't handle them now, so, easy solution, they aren't on my menu. I don't understand being addicted to cowering in abject fear, where every sound is an agony of terror. That is an odd thing to get hooked on.
I'm wondering in a similar fashion here. If using meth produces experiences such that now the idea of taking meth triggers panic, is it really a desirable drug anymore? Does it have some payoff that outweighs panic attacks? I know some things are a trade. The older I get, the worse I pay for getting drunk--nasty painful hangovers with anxious depressed moods. I drink way less than before, but sometimes I'm willing to pay the drunk toll. Is it like that? I know we make trade-offs that wouldn't make sense to non-users. I do without most material things because I devote most of my budget to substances. I'm generally comfortable with that. There have been times I get fed up with that cost or some intangible cost and then I drop the habit, sometimes for months, sometimes for years, until a time comes along that the cost benefit ratio becomes acceptable again. I figure everyone has their individual math for such accounting, and each person's is valid and deserves to be treated as such; I don't think there should ever be shame around using. All the same, it is confusing to an uncomfortable degree watching people maintain habits that seem to only deliver negatives.
insights anyone?