Meth and Violence go Hand in Hand

Guest post by Matt

My name is Matt, I am 19 years old,young I know but I grew up fast and grew up hard.I have been around critty for as far back as I can remember. From before I was born in the 80’s until I was about 5 in the 90’s.My dad was a biker when him and my mom married my dad was a member of the san Diego chapter of the hells angels and he also cooked meth.At one point half of San Diego’s meth dealers would get it from my dad who pretty much was on top of meth distribution in the city of san Diego especially the clairemont region.My dad was also a tweaker and made life a living hell for my mother. My dad never layed a hand on me but he would shout yell and holler so loud he could wake the devil and would constantly abuse my mother.The day finally came when the DEA and San Diego police busted my dad,he did some time behind bars,while doing his time he was making inside drug transactions and ended up getting stabbed to death for it. About 4 years after that my mother remarried to my step-father.I took an intense liking to him and he was awesome at first I thought I finally knew what it was like to have a real dad,until he started acting just like my dad….and worse.

Years passed and I got older he and my mother had a child,my half brother who I love and care about more than anything in the world,I would die to protect this kid and I would kill anyone that ever hurt him that little guy is the reason I wake up smiling still. After he was born, my step dad was never home he would always come home a odd hours and he would sleep for hours upon hours and he was my familys worst nightmare.There would be days where he was extremely violent and extremely abusive towards my mother and myself mostly my little brother some nights he would get home and my brother would cry like babies are supposed to and it drived him insane and he would go into his room and just beat this little toddler and the day came where my mother sent me to live with my grandmother and my moms youngest brother,my uncle, I moved 120 miles south of San Diego to a desert community which is also a border town with Mexico,where my mom and grandmother are from.

My time was the best time of my life,my uncle became pretty much my father, he was the longest lasting good hearted father figure I’ve ever known,he was also a very hyper fast moving energetic person,my uncle did smoke marijuana,cigarettes and he would drink all day everyday,which was alright cause he was the drunk who makes his appearance known and just cracks jokes and messess around laughs a lot the life of the party basically the one rush he loved above all one rush he said was better then all drugs put together was adrenaline.My uncle loved fighting more than anything,all styles not just limited,he would practice multiple forms of martial arts from karate to tai kwon Dow to jin jistu all the way to boxing,the queensbury rules witch require gloves and regulation and the no rules bare knuckle street boxing.He was also a hood,or a gangster,he had the shaved head white shirts khakis all that.the whole time I was there he would be rowdy with me come into the room when I was laying down jump on top of me and pretty much just kick my ass,in a playful way of course,but there were times when I would take back to him and be a smartass or talk back to my grandma and he would really beat me down especially for disrespecting women,When I turned 13 I was changed,I wasn’t a scared frightened kid who thought eveyone was going to hurt and hit.all the years of my uncle fighting with me and being rowdy and just wailing on me I learned how to fight and more importantly how to take a punch and how to block out the pain of getting hit.I also spent time learning how to box both ways bare knuckle and gloves,once I learned all the styles he taught me he taught me how to carry out quick fast clean blows to parts of the body that are weak and delicate and cause someone to die if hit with enough power and force.

When I was 13 my grandmother god rest her soul passed away and it was just me and my uncle.I became depressed and anti social at this point and I started smoking cannabis with my uncle we would get stoned and drink almost every day.When I turned 14 in high school I started smoking and drinking,I smoked cigarettes mostly and weed probably every week,during that time my uncle became depressed and was always walking around town going out for a drive or with his girlfriend or friends trying to keep his mind occupied so he wouldn’t thing about my grandmother so I was pretty much on my own.During that time I experminted with drugs and all that drinking beer and getting drunk mostly.I never went to school I was constantly out on the streets going to friends houses and all that and just when I thought things were gonna be ok my friends started getting thrown in jail,suicide. Car accidents,over doses, I was all alone.At the point my heart was all hard and cold as a rock.It was pretty much dead,I never got sad,I never cried,I didn’t feel sorry for anyone at that point.I was empty the only emotion the only ounce of human people saw in me was sarcasim and laughter,usually because I was stoned.

When I turned 15 my uncle moved to Los Angeles and I couldn’t go with him and I knew what that meant….. Going back to that house with him.When I got back and saw my family they looked horrible the house was a mess and my stepdad was even worse.I would avoid him at all cost.One day I was changing my shirt in the bathroom and he walked in and saw the tattoos I got from my uncle mostly southern California gang affiliated tattoos and he started yelling saying I was a joke and how many ways and he can hurt me and how many ways and can kill me and I ignored it.his words where all talk to me so I just ignored him.after two weeks I moved in with a friend and his family until I was 17.This is when I became aquainted with methamphetamine.

I came home on day and so my friend crushing up meth on the table and he asked me if I wanted a line,I said no at first and I started thinking what if I can fight fire with fire? I fixed a large rail for myself and snorted and that’s when I got the biggest rush of my life.before I knew it I was snorting staying up for 3 days crashing out and doing it all over again.When I returned home things where still the same. Except now there where to people in the house using crystal.during my time using it I started to become more focused on my mother and little brother I would be tweaked out of my mind all day going around my house cleaning everthing replacing light bulbs,stuff like that.I also became more attached to my brother then I ever was.I went on a four day meth binge and I was laying in my room smoking weed easing the come down and I heard my brother start to cry and he storms in my room and starts hugging me non stop tears and balling and I looked at his arms and saw bruises and cuts and I took of his shirt and there was bruises eveyone,my brother would also flinch at evey little thing.When he was crying,something my stepdad hated the most,he walked him my room grabbed the little guy by the arm and dragged him into the other room.At the point I got hot flashes and put of nowhere I just felt like I was on a meth rush all over again I felt this intense almost borderline psychotic state of rage.A state of rage no one can go through and experience unless they done meth,all of a sudden I just stood up and started walking towards the door adrenaline pumping like never before all the meth in me I opened the door and he was just beating the kid and i charged him I knocked him to the floor and just started kicking stomping everthing I became like an animal I got on top of him and started punching his face over and over and over again at one point he manged to hit me back and I took the punch I got about 3 inches away for his face and just let of almost a roar of rage and pulled my head back as far as I could and I head butted him so hard I broke his nose and shortly I found my hands around his neck squeezing ass hard as I could until I began to start feeling his tendons and muscles in the neck start cracking and I somehow came to my senses and stoped my self and left my stepdad laying on the floor basking in his own blood inches from almost dying.

He never came back he divorced my mom and packed up his shit and left.The guy who thought he was oh stuff couldn’t even look at me cause he was scared of me.since then meth as been something I’ve done on and off.I haven’t touched meth for 6 months now mainly just drink and smoke cigarettes.I have witnessed the results and outcomes of meth not only does it make life a hell for the addict but it makes live a living hell for the addicts family.

I went throught that hell all of my life I did there drug so I could understand and be just as dangerous and violent as tweakers and its not good.Meth is fuckin bullshit,it turns people into horrible things.I have a good life now I have a good paying job I attend college I spend time with my family but deep down inside I still feel the violent monster meth created in me.I will probably live with the emptiness and anger for the rest of my life.Stay away from meth people for the love of god.If its to late and your just like that child abusing tweaker I left laying on the floor choking on his own blood god help you and god forgive you cause that is the ultimate evil and man can commit against the ones he stays he loves.

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2 thoughts on “Meth and Violence go Hand in Hand

  1. I am in tears. I had no idea, really no idea the horrors some children experience. I am a grown woman with children. I have tried my best to provide for them in spite of obstacles. There came a day when all of my efforts finally broke me down. But this isn’t about me. That is how I came to leave my ex and ended up living alone in a foreign country. In spite of breaking I never used drugs. I cried a lot, slept a lot and contemplated suicide but never tried any drug. I had never even been exposed to drugs. After my very long term relationship ended I had no intention of getting involved with anyone, unless it was easy I said. 2 years later I meet my current (well maybe not after this week) boyfriend. I was instantly drawn to him and he won my affections quickly. And he was honest with me about every aspect of his life, including his drug use. I stayed far back from it at first, only observing but the scientist in me started analyzing it and before I knew what happened I was fully engaged in his use. At least in the home. Aside from using I was engaged in all aspects of his use. I saw it as a problem at first but he seemed in control. Who was I to judge him for using if he could keep his life together. Then he started disappearing for days on end. I caught wind of strange actities and started to spot inconsistencies in his stories. As I begin to question him about these things he started to rage. He has never hit me, and I bet he would rip the head off of anyone who even came close to me. In fact one night getting gas a man approached my side of the car. My boyfriend quickly circled to stop him and ushered him away. I know now had that man so much as stood his ground he would have been left in a heap on the ground. My boyfriends use has increased. His method of use has changed. Every time he gets upset or leaves the house I worry he won’t come back or I worry about what’ve is really doing. I’m scared a lot now, I tremble, I cry, I long for the man I first fell in love with. I know he is in there. I can’t leave him, everyone who he has loved has abandoned him. I have to stay for the days he wants to fight for his life but I fear for his life every other day. I read a lot now, especially when he is missing, as he is now, about meth use, and peoples stories and rehab and treatments. I was on the phone today with a rehab specialist who says I have to give him an ultimatum. I can’t I know what he will choose. I look for clues in other peoples stories about how to help him and am realizing more and more no one can help him. Threats can’t help, pleading can’t, ultimatums can’t. He is the only one who can help himself, and I wait for those golden moments that he wants to chose life over meth.

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