I am this close to using meth. I am standing on the precipice looking

down into the valley below me and I see the strewn wreckage of so many

souls who plunged into the crevice of meth use before me. My support

system has collapsed and I am alone struggling to make a decision; to

use or not to use.

No man, beast or even insanity seems to satiate my desire to use.

The power of meth prevails. There are those who rise up out of the

darkness and I glimpse their face in agony as they struggle to climb

out of the hell of meth use but my heart tells me not to believe what I

see, my heart assures me that I will not fail this time. This time I

will be able to function normally when I use. I will maintain a normal

standard of living.

Meth is eternal. It is always there. Meth was there before I ever

had to draw a line in the sand. It is beckoning to me from personal ads on line;

it beckons me to return to that darkened place where I can not see

reality. It promises to mask my loneliness, it will cloak my reclusive

behavior, and it will make me feel free to be "myself" again.

Why do I stand on this steep drop and contemplate stepping off? Why

do I continue to love meth when it has brought nothing but despair,

death and isolation to me? For those of us who don’t care, meth is a

constant. It is always there. Meth continues to fool me and make me

believe that I have missed out. Meth does not let up on me. It barrages

me with false memories of euphoria.

I have been clean for five plus years and you may be wondering to

yourself, why don’t I leave it once and for all? Why don’t I turn from

the bluff overlooking the souls lost to meth and walk away? I have and

I will but I fear I will always be a meth head. I will always remember

what it was like to have used and left behind this world of sadness,

isolation and private struggle. I will always want to return to the colorful world of Oz

rather then stay in the black and white world of Kansas.

I can look over my shoulder and see those behind me not daring to

even come close to the precipice. Those that see me think I am crazy. I

have to agree that standing so close to the chasm before me is daunting

but since I have been there, I am more fearful, only that fear does not

compel me to avoid using meth again. As the fear grows in me, so does my desire to

use.

I will step back for now. I have no choice. I have to find my inner

strength and resolve. I avoided another near miss. I wonder if I will

ever be rid of meth or the ravages it has brought to me or will I

forever tread on the cliffs of desire and tempt the glass pipe to pull

me in and let me float in the clouds again.

I am this close to using meth and I stand on the precipice looking

down into the valley below me. I can see remnants of my own wreckage

and back away. Slowly I manage to step back. I will not use but that

doesn’t make me less of a meth head.