Department of Social Services
Share Your Story

Share Your Story

Sharing can be powerful.

If meth has affected you or someone you care about, speak up. Share a message about what you’ve lost or what you’ve learned. You might just save someone from going down an ugly road.

Share Your Story

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I was robbed of a childhood, and had troubled teen years, because of my father’s method addiction. His violent gang life was bad enough, but exacerbated by this drug. My teen years were bad enough because of my actions, but could’ve been easier if my father was around. At age 21, my father had yet another severe bout with the drug, assaulting my mother, grandfather, and I with a deadly weapon. He went to prison for five and a half years. He’s now clean and sober….but another fight with this drug popped up for me. In late 2016 I noticed my brother had begun a new relationship with a woman. Both have children with people prior to their meeting, and things were bad from day one of their relationship. My brother had wrecked our car, but in a way that puzzling. We accepted his story, and thought “things happen”. We were wrong. Soon after, I noticed my brother was becoming more distant, and less interested in what made he and I bond so powerfully. His birthday is in February, and in 2017 he wouldn’t look me in the eye until I practically forced it. His eyes were sunken in, his face thin, and lower jaw were moving rapidly. I knew in my heart, this drug grabbed a hold of him. Two weeks later, he assaulted my mother, grandfather, and a neighbor during an extreme fit of paranoia. Weeks after, his girlfriend would not release his children from her home because she too was spun out on this drug; same face, same eyes, and rapidly moving lower jaw. Summer 2017 was a back and forth battle involving those two and their horribly toxic relationship. He and I fist fought, he and my dad fist fought, he stole money, destroyed my work computer, broke windows, and lastly, is accused of stabbing his girlfriend. He’s currently awaiting sentencing for what he’s being accused of doing. This drug robbed me of a childhood and teen years with my father, and has turned my immediate family and I into exhausted people from the chaos of my brother’s addiction. This drug is one pure, and simply, evil creation. Look for any and all signs in loved ones; have they turned distant, changed personalities, sleep way more and much longer, not eating, more agitated, more anxious or restless, change in appearance (weight loss, tired eyes, pronounced cheek bones)? If so, don’t do what I did and hope they change on their own. Very rarely will they do so, and if you wait it can be too late to help. All I can do now is hope my brother is okay behind a cell, and hope he doesn’t get too much time. Hope my story doesn’t fall on deaf ears, and hope we can talk if you have any questions. Take care everyone.


my story?... Well, I always knew i was different than other kids my age.. i had a warped mind, with awful thoughts.. my innocence was robbed from me at 11… then 12…. and so on and so on.. with all the pain and trauma i stayed strong and naive to drugs, alcohol started at 14, by 21 i lost count how many times i had alcohol poisoning.. then the gates opened to what i thought was bliss, cocaine… what a beautiful mistress she became.. made me feel like i was on top of the world, but then suddenly at 16 she just wasnt enough for me.. so meth knocked on the door and stole my soul… it consumed my every being.. i couldn’t function without it.. when i didnt have it i slept for days till i got the funds to get more.. i couldn’t even recognize who it made me into.. i went from this strong girl who knew nothing about drugs to a drug dealer, a person with the kindest heart turned into someone who kicked peoples ass that owed me money or tried to steal my supply.. i became a stripper and that was the place to deal and score, my heaven at night, also carried a full time day job, had a baby girl, and tried out college…. yea i thought i could do everything cause i had a miracle drug.. sad thing is the dealing, fighting and stripping isnt even the worst… i sold myself when needed,i stopped caring about myself and my body…  i stopped caring about my daughter… she didnt do anything to deserve a drug addicted mother.. sitting in her car seat while i met my dealer in parking lots.. meth was my life… there are so many individual horror stories i could tell, but it all ends the same, i lost myself, destroyed friendships, almost lost my daughter for good, i was consumed by evil.. i hated myself, and i was close to ending my life once and for all.. i hated who i had let this stupid drug turn me into.. i had lost all hope in myself.. i just knew my daughter would be better off, and no one gave a shit about me anymore.then the last person i thought to have cared did just that, cared.. it was actually my boss from my day job, i was coming down off a week or two binge so naturally i slept for days, well that caused me to miss quite a few days with no notice at work.. so he called over and over and over, till i came out of my coma enough to hear my phone, i answered and blabbed something not living anymore took a handful of pills and passed back out.. next thing i know im waking up to the police banging and yelling at my door, (small apartment), stumble my way to the door and almost fall on them, after a few minutes im being taken to a psych ward for an eval cause i seem like a danger to myself, (which i definitely) was. and after the keep me sedated till im fully through coming off of my cocktail of pills and meth. then bam the social worker.. the angle that saved my life… of course at the time i resented her and cursed her. but she did what i couldn’t bring myself to do… she threatened me with CPS if i didnt go to rehab, even found me one and set it all up for me to leave that night from the hospital i was in.. of course i wiggled my way to getting her to let me go home and pack first… well, we all know what i did before my partner dragged my ass out of the town i lived in to go rehab. i hated what was happening at the time the devil that was meth told me i was fine and this was all unnecessary and i was just fine.. but now as i sit here typing this with my horrible typos and bad punctuation, i look over at my daughter and pause, my heart melts with love now, im not always happy and definitely not all rainbows, but im content with my life.. seeing what a wonderful 10 yr old my daughter has grown into thanks to family and her father. looking at my life and seeing that i found someone who loves me andd proves it everyday dealing with my mood swings and unbalanced self..the fact im looking into buying a house.. im going to be just fine and its amazing that i can say that with truth and confidence now. and i owe it all to my former boss who cared to call for help and that hard ass social worker for giving me the push i needed. so to those suffering, dont give up on yourself, you never know whos watching and willing to jump in and help you.. for those of you thinking just once wont hurt, it will, itll still your soul, run as fast as you can te other way. this drug will NOT fix anything or help any problems you are having so dont waste your time or your money on the devil.. reach out someone is always willing to listen, i know i am. hopefully people read this and they get something out of this. keep the fight going.


I have been around it my whole life. While my mom was pregnant with me and my siblings, while we were children, while she was watching us grow up, and everything in between. Of course I didn’t notice when I was young. But when I look back I remember going to her room for something and her and my dad yelling at me to get out, to go to my room. I started noticing that not everyone acts that way, she was weird. She was different. I was about 13 years old when I actually found out that it was meth she had been doing. I found it hidden in her drawer. She did do a pretty good job at hiding it, but not good enough. So me and my older brother told her that we found it. She was pissed and made us go to bed. She never wanted to talk to us about it, she always denied it or told us that she had stopped. She never did. She just lied. Of course, me being her daughter believed her or wanted to believe her, I am not sure which one yet. Well, we found it again and again and it was always the same story. I’m quitting or just give excuses after excuses. After many years of trying to help she just wouldn’t except. I had to get out of there. It was summer when everything went at a complete 90 degree downward slope. There was one incident where I had my friend over who had a two year old daughter. We were trying to get her to go to sleep and my mom got mad at something. She starts freaking out and says she is going to go meditate in her room. We all knew what that meant. That was my real breaking point. I went into her room and chewed her out. There was a little girl that she had nothing to do with in just the other room and I wasn’t going to let it happen. I try telling her how i feel and that it needs to stop but she blames it on her kids not helping around the house or her being stressed out. I finally told her i didn’t think she cared anymore. It really seemed like she didn’t. I tried opening her eyes up and telling her that she is going to get in trouble, that her kids were going to get ripped away from her and she was going to be in prison. I told her she won’t be able to see her grandchildren or go to any birthday’s or anything. She didn’t care. The meth was more important to her. She didn’t stop yet. During that same summer toward when school was starting I noticed she wasn’t sleeping. I found it again for what would be the fifth time that I can remember. I had enough. I was sick of crying, sick of being afraid that i was gonna loose her, sick of being around it. I had a boyfriend at the time and he didn’t like coming over because she was smoking meth. I warned her that it was going to tear her family apart. My two older brothers had already graduated high school and weren’t really in her care anymore. I took my younger sister and we left. It was too much pain in that house with her mood swings and her meth addiction. I wasn’t going to leave forever because i had a job there, and friends, and other family. All she cared about when we left was getting her things back that she had bought. She didn’t care if we were alright. She didn’t care that we had left. Once we realized that all we wanted was our stuff back. When we went to get it she had locked all of the doors, taken everything out of our bedroom and locked it into a room. she wouldn’t let us in the house or she wouldn’t talk to us. She just wanted us to leave. So we did. We decided that it wasn’t fair and that we were going to live somewhere else. I could of called the cops many times but that was my mother. She had given me everything when my dad left us. But of course they were only together for the drugs too. I told her why we left and i told her where we would be. After a month of us leaving she finally realized what she had done. She finally understood why we left. She quit for a little but that only lasted about 3 months. She relapsed again during thanksgiving. She told us it was because she was stressed. She has stopped again for now but how long is that? When is she going to smoke again? Even when she isn’t smoking it is taking a toll. She is so touchy. She gets angry so easily and starts yelling. Well thanks for reading even though i can’t share my full story or even if you don’t read it, at least i can tell someone.