REAL STORIES

Age: 24
Gender: Female
Location: Westminster, Colorado

Hello, My name is V-- and I have been clean from Meth for almost 4 years now. I used from the age of 18 to the age of almost 21. I was not by any means a weekend warrior, I would smoke about an ounce in a week, if not more. I was the type of person who would ditch who I was with in order to get my hands on a sack of any size. I lied to my mother about everything, even things I really didn't need to lie to her about.

Before I started using, I was slightly overweight at about 190 lbs. I have always had a disfigured body image so when I started smoking and the weight started to come off I was hooked. I loved the way I was able to work out for hours at a time and because I didn't have to eat I was losing weight at a record pace. I realized I had a problem when I was working out at Bally's and I almost passed out because my heart was beating so fast. I noticed people starting to look at me funny because I was broken out on my face so bad. When I could see my ribs and the bones in my hands I knew that I was unhealthy skinny. I got down to about 139 lbs, and that was the smallest I have ever been in my life.

One day I was smoking and I glanced over and saw myself in the mirror. It was awful, I saw what I looked like with that nasty pipe in my hand and I was disgusted with myself. I couldn't see the very beautiful blue that was once my eyes, and my cheek bones were protruding from my face. That night I got all my things together (pipes, baggies, straws, paper clips) that I used to clean or smoke my pipes, and hid them in my drawer. I knew that it was only a matter of time before I freaked out and went to find something to smoke. So a few days later I took everything and put it in a sock and walked out to the dumpster at my apartment complex. I knew again that I could freak out and climb in to that dumpster if the addict in me came out, so I took the sock and smashed it against the side of the dumpster to break the pipe that was inside. I went inside and cried at the long road I was looking at traveling alone.

A few days passed and my old dealer called and asked for a ride (that is how I would get most of my drugs, I drove this creep around), I told him that I had quit and he laughed. He told me to call him when I relapsed. He swore and hung up the phone. That was a very empowering moment in my life, I grew stronger and at that point became proud of minutes, days, months that I didn't smoke.

Each step is something to be proud of, and seeing the world in clear haze free light is something that cannot be remotely explained.

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