Crystal Meth

My first encounter with meth was when I was about fourteen. I was on AWOL (absent without leave)from one of my group homes and had found some "good people" to stay with. It was a comfortable group living in an apartment in San Diego. It was one of those places where you don't really know who lives there, just a flow of people coming and going, staying a few nights and then leaving. So I stayed, more than a few nights. The only person who's name I remember was Kat. She and some of the guys staying there would offer me meth every few days and I would just say, "No thanks". At that point I really wasn't interested. Eventually I made my way back to Hillcrest Receiving Home then on to the next group home.
Periodically, being the chronic run away I had become, I would take off from whatever current placement I was in and head on back to the "apartment". There was a guy living in the garage. He had electricity and all he needed and would just come in to eat and use the pot. Eventually, still saying no to the offers of "do you wanna line?" I began scraping bags when no one was around. I'd seen it done many times, just cut the little zip lock baggie open and take a razor to scrape the left overs out. I'd find them just laying around or on top of the trash in the trash can. Curiosity had gotten the best of me. I didn't get much out of the little baggies I found, but enough to get a fifteen year old high. I would clean and get chatty and, at the time, I loved the extra energy.
So began my love/ hate relationship with meth. Once an addict, always an addict. As they say, curiosity killed the cat. I'm lucky I'm alive, not on drugs and living the blessed life I am.