Is This Paranoia Real?

“I know that I'm not perfect, and that I don't claim to be. So before you point your fingers, be sure your hands are clean.” I mumbled to myself. I was sick of the judgemental hatred. It made no sense to me; sure I may live a different lifestyle. But does that really make you better than me? Sure I may have made the wrong decisions, maybe I am a bad person, and maybe I deserve it all. I have lived on the streets for six months now, and I have been a methamphetamine addict for sixteen months. Don’t worry though I only snort it. Hey I got to be slightly optimistic. The bad part is, its hard to have eternal optimism when all your looking for is your next fix, just so you can avoid the painful with drawls, and have the mind numbing euphoria again. I know I am an addict. It’s the truth, so I may as well admit it. No sense in denying it to others and to myself. I can make you a vaporizer, I can cook you up some junk, and I can help you score but I don’t guarantee that you won’t be jumped or ripped off in the process. I do what I have to, to survive. I may be the lowest of the low, I may be complete scum, but I would die without this drug. It isn’t just a mental addiction; it’s a physical addiction. Some people tell themselves they don’t need it; thankfully I am not in that sort of denial. Some people say I am digging my own grave all I can say in return is “yeah I am half done too, want to pass me another shovel?” sure it’s a bad thing to say. But what else am I suppose to say? I know I won’t stop because of some remark.

Being the lowest of the low had one perk. Nobody expected anything from me. Initially I let down my parents, but now I have no one to disappoint. Now I have no one left to hurt, or destroy besides myself. I resorted to what I had to, to get my next fix. I would steal car stereos, and other things worth value. I pawned away all of my possessions, and blew my life savings. I jump people, and I collect my monthly welfare check. At least I don’t have to worry about finding a warm place to sleep, as I am usually to wired to even close my eyes. I take the odd nap here and there, but when you’re as far in as me sleep is a foreign thing.

I was walking down the damp dark streets, looking for someone to jump. Sure it wasn’t nice but I needed to get another line or two or I would die. I wandered around downtown, for another half hour until I came across a chick that looked about sixteen years old. I walked behind her at a moderate pace until I finally caught up with her. I tapped her on the shoulder and pulled out my switchblade “Hey, I think you got some money to give me or I may just cut you up a little” I said to her, she probably hasn’t been jumped before. I grabbed the purse from her hands, and went through it; after I was done looking I found seventy dollars. I threw the purse on the ground and ran towards the nearest alley. The girl I jumped had a look of complete horror on her face, but it’s her own fault for walking around town at night. Money in hand I walked to the nearest pay phone. I fished in my pocket and shakily put the thirty-five cents in. I knew the number off by heart. It rang and rang, until finally someone picked up. It was my dealer Chaz. He always hooked me up with a good deal, and would sell at any hour of the night. We decided to meet at a park. It would be completely secluded and heat free.

After walking for ten minutes I finally got to the park. I was nervous; picking up a bag always sketched me out. When Chaz finally got to the park, I was glad. “Hey you go the cash?” he asked me.
“Yeah man its all here, its all here, you got the stuff? Do you got it?” I asked him
“Of course I have it,” He said as he passed a baggy to me. I gave him all of the money and quickly pocketed the bag. I walked away from the park in a fast manner. I didn’t want to stick around much longer. I quickly walked down the dark dreary streets; I didn’t know where would be a wise place to snort this. I needed some coverage as it was starting to rain out. I could always smoke it? Would be a bit easier then busting out lines. I walked towards the nearest convenience store. Once I walked in the bright lights automatically hurt my eyes. It was way darker outside. I had managed to steal a box of light bulbs, a bottle of pepsi, and some straws. Once I got away from the store, I started to construct myself a vaporizer. After a good ten minutes of hard work my device was made. I threw in the junk and began to get my fix. I had enough junk to last me the night. Thankfully I was high once again. I couldn’t stand to be sober. I wandered around all night; I destroyed the odd thing, along my way. I finally got back towards the downtown area I grew to know and love, it was the closest thing I had to a home. I knew the people here, most of them where in the same predicament as me. I didn’t talk to many people but I was a friend of some sorts with a few people. There was Candy the girl who exchanged favours of all kinds for cash. She had no other way to make enough money to get the drugs she needed, so she resorted to prostitution. Then there was Mike, the kid who had all the advantages of life but ended up just like me in the gutters and looking for the drug that he yearned for so badly. I knew a few more people but I really couldn’t think of whom right now. I sat down in an alleyway and smoked some more junk. I didn’t want to risk carrying it around all night so I might as well just smoke it. I continued to smoke and smoke. I sat there in complete euphoria. I couldn’t stand sitting down any longer, so I started to wander down the alley. As I walked, I heard the odd voice. But I knew it was just an effect of the mind numbing substance I just finished indulging in. I couldn’t stop scratching my arms, or looking behind me. But I wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything in the world. I was high and that is all that matters. I looked like your cliché tweaker. I had greasy brown hair (as I only got the chance to shower once a week) I was about 6’1 and I was rail thin. I had some scabs grazing my arms, and dark circles under my eyes. I wandered around some more; I finally emerged from the dirty alleys, and walked towards 17th avenue. Once I got there, I walked towards a dingy apartment building. I ran up the rotting stairs, and knocked on the door of apartment 403 over and over again. Finally a girl with messy blonde hair, and dark circles under her eyes opened the door. She was pretty much a tweaker like me, but she had some cash, due to her extensive prostitution.
“Hey Candy how are you? We haven’t talked in such a long time. I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you” I said to her. She knew what I meant. When I was tweaking I could never string together sentences, but really who could? She walked out of the way and let me in. Candy and I have been friends for roughly a year. She let me shower at her place, and we would jib it up together. She was honestly one of my best friends. We sat and talked and talked. She got high as a kite, and kept up with my mile a minute speech. If any one who was sober, was there and just listened to our ramblings, they would be confused and probably wouldn’t be able to keep up. We couldn’t stop talking, despite the hallucinations and random voices. When you abuse drugs, you get some bad effects, the voices where just one small side effect. There was the jib bugs, and tooth rot. Don’t worry I only smoke it a bit, I won’t suffer through tooth rot. Honestly though? Despite the obscene amount of negative effects I just simply didn’t care. I needed this drug or I would die. After hanging out with Candy for a few more hours, and bonding with a light bulb just a bit more I finally left. I needed to get some cash.

Sure I was still high, but I needed to get another fix. I wandered around and jumped a few people; I ended up coming up with roughly a hundred dollars. That could get me two grams easily all I had to do was talk to Chaz. I got my junk and walked into a convenience store. I locked myself into the bathroom and busted out a few lines on the counter. I quickly grabbed my snooter from my pocket and proceeded to shove the sweet crystal up my nose. I quickly walked out of the bathroom continuing to sniff. I am sure that didn’t look suspicious in the slightest. I could really care less, sure I hated how everyone judged me, but really what can I do about it? It is after all my fault. I continued to walk around until I finally found my way back to Candy’s house. I rapidly knocked on her door, and finally got let in. There was Candy and her roommate Tara sitting around. The both had some crank out and where ready to indulge. So likewise I pulled out my bag that was just shy two grams. We busted out line after line after line. I ended up snorting everything that was left in my bag and then some. Not to long afterwards I tried to continue with our mile a minute speech, but my breath caught in my throat. I felt pain rip through my body and I started to convulse, and get cold sweats. It wasn’t long before I was crawling on the floor dry heaving; I hadn’t eaten anything for a few days so vomiting was nearly impossible. I was feeling such unbelieveble pain, blood was running down my lips as my nose bleed got worse and worse. Dizziness spun me out of control and I finally passed out after the whole ordeal.

I woke up on Candy’s bed. I finally dragged my body out, and walked towards the living room. “What happened?” was all I could ask, when I saw her.
“Oh Justin you just overdosed, it wasn’t anything to major” she replied. I couldn’t believe it. I had already overdosed. I wasn’t even twenty. I could of died. But that didn’t stop me from getting my fix a day later.

For months I continued like that. I kept upping my doses, and getting my dope from Chaz. I wasn’t leading a healthy lifestyle at all. I eventually did start to get a bit of tooth rot, and the meth was putting a lot of strain on my body. I didn’t care. I needed it more than I needed anything else in my life. I lived like this for the longest time until one night. I got caught trying to steal a car stereo. The cops found me with seven grams on me. I got charged with theft and possession. I had gotten eight months in jail.

I won’t tell you about all that happened in jail, as it is pretty boring, I made some friends, and I went pretty clean. It was hard in the beginning; I had excessive cravings for it. I was extremely depressed and restless. Not to mention I also went through delusions and extreme paranoia. I guess it was just the drug completely leaving my system. There wasn’t one day that I didn’t think of meth, and how much I longed for it. It was the only thing I had to live for. During my time in jail, I went through a bit of addiction counselling. I pretty much decided that once I got out, I was going to quit using. I was going to change my life. I was going to be a functioning member of society, and I was going to never touch it again.

I lasted three months. I finally fell for the seductive charm of crank once again. I continued to use to a point of excess. I was a careless happy jib addict. Sure my immune system was getting worse and worse. I had a lower resistance to illness, and I am sure the drug was putting quite a strain on my liver and kidneys. But I didn’t care. The only thing I could care about was getting high. I eventually got arrested again, but this time they decided I should go to rehab, instead of jail. It wasn’t long before the amphetamine psychosis came back, and the with drawls came. I once again got clean. They put me under heavy anti-depressants, and anti-psychotics such as Thorazine and Librium. I finally made it through rehab, and was finally allowed out. I once again told myself I wasn’t going to let this drug control me. I wasn’t going to go back to how I use to be. I even decided to move to a different city.

It took me six months this time. I went back to doing meth. I am still using it; I even started to intravenously use it. I guess once you start, you can’t stop. Maybe I don’t have the willpower? I honestly cannot answer the question to as why I started again. I can’t even tell you why I started in the first place. But I did what I did. There is nothing I can do to change the past as much as I would like to, it is impossible. I can always quit, and try and get my life back on track. But it’s easier said than done. Now you may give me a disapproving glare. But I am human just like you. I still have feelings, and I still have emotions. I still feel pain. Even though the drug that I adore is slowly taking it all away from me.