TWEEKERLAND – Meth Speed Bumps

“It’s Neuro Toxic”

I have been wondering where to go from my last post… that Halloween Night, full of meth and just released from the Hall…   other than to simply say that we went to go do what we always did, use, drive around, fight, maybe not fight, etc.

Needless to say at that point I did need a new job, so I got one at a small psychiatric hospital across the street from where I lived (The apartment that was raided.) I lied and said I was 18.

I titled this entry “It’s Neuro – Toxic” for a few reasons. For starters, I sat on this entry for a few weeks now, trying to remember my 18th birthday… 19th… my 20th. 

I can’t. I don’t remember turning 18. I should remember that – something about it – but I don’t.  I just don’t remember any of them. There’s so much I don’t remember… and I often realize it when it’s most awkward.  This is a Meth Addicts Brain (In the picture) for anyone who hasn’t seen this type of pic before.

My Brain probably looks like a meteorite.

I remember that I was 18 when I met my kids dad, and that I was probably about 20 when I started college (I tried a few times to get through that,) and I remember that one of  the times I watched one of  my roommates shoot up meth was the same day I tried PCP and actually got high (Tried it before but it didn’t work.) They offered me some (The needle,) but I said no, and that was a path I never did walk.  I remember a fight in South San Francisco, and getting my ass beat by this gigantic woman – she didn’t look that big in her car!  I remember sitting under what is now “880″  in Union City, CA (It used to be called “Hwy 17″ a long time ago,) and watching some friend moonwalk after smoking a lot of PCP. I remember hitchhiking all over Northern California (“Public Transportation.”) I remember getting pulled over three times in one night by the same cop, and he just kept “Warning” us to go home. I remember once running from the cops, getting the ass of my pants caught at the top of a cyclone fence, and hanging there for a second before the ass ripped out and I fell off the other side. My friend did wait for me – she was too out of breath to keep running because she was laughing too hard.

We were happy to smoke a lot of weed, take unreal amounts of hallucinogens, and do meth anytime we could – which was mostly always.

I remember letting my mom down once because my dad was in the hospital – I was supposed to go see him. I cannot remember why he was there to this day. I am too ashamed to ask them today why he was there. I remember my mom crying when my older brother caught me packing my stuff so I could move out when I thought no one was looking, and wondering why she was so upset. They didn’t really seem to like me all that much – what was she so upset about now that I was leaving?

I remember a lot of things – but all the wrong things. Trying to retrieve a memory when I NEED it is a huge problem. Trying to do a simple math problem is a huge problem. Remembering your name (Although I know you and have known you for ten or more years,)  may become a sudden, panic stricken storm in my head; not for a second, not just for a moment – sometimes I can recognize people I know by looking at their shoes – but I can’t retrieve their name when I need to. When they are there. It scares me, and I have to hide that in the moment. It scares me and I don’t talk about that too much – where can it go from here? That scares me. That happens a lot.

Meth is Neuro – Toxic, it causes brain damage. I have brain damage. I remember a lot of the nightmarish stuff, I remember the stuff I did when I was loaded that was “Off the Hook…”

I don’t remember turning 18. I might not remember your name, even if you are someone I know well.

I remember that after the narcs raided our apartment, though, we had to move. One of my roommates had a rich father, and he was pretty willing to give her what she asked for. He rented her a house, which I of course followed her to.  I remember a lot of drugs, again. I remember having taken about 7 hits of acid at that house, having a lot of guests there that night (Also frying on LSD,) and that there was an earthquake.

Pink Floyd Ummagumma was playing at the time. “Jeff,” who I went to high school with, started freaking out. We all laughed at him while he ran around trying to herd us into a doorway. I can picture that night in perfect detail – I can even see the curtains. They were moving all night (From the LSD.)

I wish I could forget eventually being abandoned at that house, starving, and deciding to go to each neighbor to borrow an egg, so I could eat something.  I remember making a suicide attempt in that house, and calling the suicide hot-line. Back then I guess no one called the cops to break down your door (No caller ID?) They just asked you what you took, and if it was safe, talked you into puking it up. 

I remember puking it up, and wondering if that guy on the phone just scammed me.

I had meth, cigarettes - I had no money – I still had that job but I hadn’t gone in for a while. My parents wouldn’t have anything to do with me. My roommate was “Staying at her mom and dads for a while,” so I was there alone. I remember that. I don’t know how old I was – I must have been 18.

Wow – I just had a huge Epiphany – I WAS 18! One of my damaged Neurons just fired correctly for the first time since the 1980’s – w00t!

I titled this post “It’s Neuro- Toxic” because sooner or later I have to I have to leap ahead with this little Biography.  I have enough stories to cover nearly 30 years of addiction based on my life alone – and I could keep it very interesting, too, if I wasn’t afraid of the consequences of complete honesty.  I want to end this post with a discussion I had with a doctor I work with (A coworker, just for the record… lol.)

This doctor is a psychiatrist and someone who I believe is very talented, caring, and who I have watched heal people for many years now. I respect her very much, and in spite of my past, she has always given me the same respect. All of the professionals I work  with know about my past, some have endured some sort of “Violation” as a direct result of my meth use – and all have been forgiving, understanding, and encourage me to talk to people about addiction and recovery.

Back to Doctor “Miracle.”

Last month, we had a patient who already has a serious mental illness who had been using meth that day, and the patient was absolutely obtunded by her meth use. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t respond other than to nod, or shrug. She was not just high – she was SICK because of her meth use. She did not look like an intoxicated person, she looked like a sick person, and it made me sad for her. She is already sick – now she was poisoned, too.

I was honest and told this psychiatrist that I knew how this patient felt “In a way,” because of my history of meth use. That’s the truth – I could feel her pain because I’ve been there.

The Doctor’s  response was “Cocaine isn’t Neuro Toxic. People who use cocaine don’t suffer long term brain damage. Methamphetamine is Neuro Toxic – and you are watching it happen right before your eyes.”

I was looking at myself.  I saw so many years of my life in that poor woman – when the drugs stopped being a party, when I would smoke meth to the point where I could not speak, I would realize I was physically posturing, had been picking at my skin for hours, couldn’t look a person in the eye… when I was tweekin.

That time, for me, came long before I stopped using. Years. I was sick for years before I did a thing about it.

Meth is Neuro Toxic. I was damaging my brain, I think I even knew that or could sense that in a way, and I kept using anyway because I had to.

It wasn’t recreational after a while. I had to use at some point along the way.

I asked the good Doctor, “Will my brain ever completely heal?”

I had to ask her. She answered me.

“I’m not really sure – I don’t think anyone knows for sure yet.”

I remember exactly what her answer was to that particular question. For now, anyway.