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  1. allthewaymay
    Threw out my cat's pipe two weeks ago, she'd been smoking crystal pretty often with her tomcat boyfriend and they'd basically decided they'd been hitting it a little too often and a little too hard.

    My cat's friend is a heavy meth user, he used to be gay, but since he's been on the meth wagon, his orientation has switched to straight and he's living with another reasonably heavy meth user... I guess this is comfortable for both of them, but I also believe they're in love, so good luck to em.

    The trouble with my cat having friends that are users, means the availability of meth is a little too easy. I'd say in the last six moths, my cat has used every second weekend, if not more often (there have been three and four day benders thrown into the mix, that I can recall for my cat) and had some of the greatest times of her life. My cat describes to me stories of unbridled, incredible sex, whereby her ass becomes a demanding mistress that craves to be fucked hard for hours and then days with dick, multiple toys and fists. My cat's tomcat boyfriend has also experienced sexual liberation on meth that he never thought possible. But I'm sure my cat can give us more details on that later. The productivity, the porn, the cleaning, the rush, "the feeling" and the amazing goodness you get from this shit, my cat tells me, is just plain fucking wicked good.

    My cat is shit scared. The relationship she has with tomcat is the best thing she's ever come across. Period. You know how they say about love and "the one" and spending forever together, "when you know, YOU KNOW"? - Well my cat knows. Down to her bones, inner core and her soul. No question.

    So, with something so precious, so sacred and so beautiful in my cat's life and then, a year in, the introduction of meth amphetamine (ICE) suddenly things have gone flat chat and the ride was a fast one, an incredibly, fucking exciting one... albeit a scary one and now... things have to slow down and eventually... stop. There's that word. "Stop". Scares the fuck outta my cat. Makes her tense up. Makes her want to cry. In fact, she cried yesterday, two weeks into a meth detox (tomcat inflicted, or self inflicted... lets say it was a joint decision and couple inflicted instead, that makes my cat feel better) because she had to hook up her sister with some ice for a festival and felt like she was missing out. Poor cat. Poor, pathetic, loser cat. It's just a poisonous drug that rots your teeth and makes you more likely to die of heart failure. It's just a little bag of white crystals that weighs next to nothing. It's just the drug with the worst reputation in the world. It's just a little weekend play that my cat is always too embarrassed to talk to anyone about for fear of judgement. It's just making my cat's sexlife with tomcat in their "straight and sober world" a little less interesting. It's just making my cat climb the walls each day she's without it. It's just under her skin and I fear so bad for my cat that she's going to fail to be strong enough to leave it behind, even slowly, or if she's lucky, completely.

    How the fuck is my cat supposed to have a good time without it?

    How on earth is my cat meant to leave it alone?

    Two weeks have passed and when she first threw away the pipe while her tomcat was working interstate, she felt liberated, like it was "time" to get rid of it, and tomcat felt the same. See, tomcat is "the responsible one". My cat's rock (pardon the pun). The smart one. The one with self control and the "non-addictive" personality in the feline couple. My cat however, is and always has been a greedy drug user. Started with pot at 14, used fairly heavily. Gave it away during her latter teenage years and then in the early twenties, discovered ecstacy, MDMA and coke. Used these fairly regularly also into her mid twenties. Now it's late twenties and ice has made it's appearance and I doubt how my cat can manage to make a life without it rearing it's ugly head every month or so. My cat is also a professional. Tertiary qualifications, works in a medical related field and always shows up for work presentable and does a kick arse job.

    Tomcat, he brings in the big bucks, works his ring off and is too clever for his own good. But like I said earlier, he's the responsible one. Taking care of the two of them, where my cat can't, is his job. He does it well. Though yesterday when my cat came bawling her eyes out and collapsing at his chest because she felt the urge to use SO BADLY, he felt he had really failed to monitor the use of this poison effectively and was not doing his job properly. Easy to do when tomcat can just "switch off" his need for meth and my poor cat is literally daydreaming about sucking on the end of a loaded pipe and enjoying the billowing clouds of smoke almost every hour.

    See, the cats have to do the same thing. They're a team. Tomcat reels them in where things get out of hand, my cat likes to initiate the dangerous fun they can get themselves into. Sounds toxic. A little maybe. BUT, the love is the underlying thing. Neither of the cats will do anything to compromise the other, so in essence, they're both safe from whatever life can throw at them... right?

    That's where it gets blurry for my cat. She thinks the meth could be that one thing, capable of destroying it all. My cat is pretty determined, don't underestimate her, but we all know, those who are determined, fierce and brave, are usually cowering on the inside. That's why I wanted an outlet for her, here on DF.

    I will post more when I have more. Right now, my cat is scared, dying to use, dying to fuck like a demon and scream like a banshee, dying to buy a little baggy of that heavenly poison that is quite likely destroying the very soul, she has given to her tomcat.

    Jesus Christ. Writing this on behalf of my cat makes me feel sick to my stomach. Time will make this better, I know it will, but that PULL it has... the way it calls your name relentlessly and makes you want to find a way to wander over it. It's like NOTHING I've ever experienced before.

Comments

  1. Somniferabbit
    First off, you are so, so, soooooo brave for sharing your cat's story. Just talking about your cat's desires on here and sharing her fears and anxieties takes so much bravery, sweetheart.

    I have never used meth (it's kind of sacrilegious for me, since it was not a plant the gods put here, but whatever, haha), but my daddy was hooked on that stuff for many years. He told me of the pain and sorrow of his use. I only recently met my daddy for the first time (I'm 31), and he was so ashamed to tell me the stories of his use, but I assured him I had more respect for him for telling me about it than hiding it.

    Anyway, here's some of a message he sent to me that I thought might make your cat feel a little better about things (sorry for his crazy grammar and spelling, lol):

    "Being under siege and the control of chemicals is a taste of evil. True evil rarely warns you before it strikes. It prefers to watch the changes in your soul from within and exposes itself only after it is sure that you have very little if any will or hope left inside to combat it. Knowing that a higher power of some energetic supernatural form gave us all an ounce of faith that nobody or nothing can take, will keep you safe if you let it. That and only that can beat the human determination for self destruction when the drug calls the addict to feed. Gather ways to develop tools and strategies to help your mind free itself of the bodies urges first, then work on the mind. Over time one will slowly fill the multiple and seemingly endless gaps of cravings with other things that become your new life. Its a very, very long and temptation filled journey with endless triggers that call from the inner senses such as taste and smells. All hope was gone when the judge gave me 22 years in the Idaho State Penitentiary in Boise, Idaho. That ounce of faith?? I held on to it to save my very soul. Over time my mind cleared and my recovery began. I spent 23 months inpatient treatment in the Idaho system, and three and a half on supervision in the washington D.O.C. Now i believe in living again. Its like a whole new high since I've been an alcohol abusing addict so many years of my life."

    I hope that the words of my daddy help your cat, dear. He knows what the fight against meth is like, but it IS possible to stop. :) Your cat is very brave, and don't ever be sorry for her past. We all have lessons in life to learn, and it is NEVER too late to begin anew. <3

    Also, for the record, I'm in love with a dear friend who is a meth addict, so my heart goes out to your cat...
  2. allthewaymay
    Thank you so much for your kind words, that is incredibly sweet of you to share that with me, I really appreciate it, thank you so much.

    :thumbsup:
  3. Somniferabbit
    No problem. I saw that no one had posted in response to your cat's story, and thought that maybe I should say something, since I sort of have experience with this kinda thing. After all my dad told me, it sort of makes me feel good to try and help people who are wanting to get off that vicious drug. I like to let people know that IT IS POSSIBLE to quit...it's just a big fat fucking smelly bitch to do it. Your cat's gotta be strong. Sometimes, it's so exhausting to be strong all the time, but like my daddy said, once your cat's through the hard part, she'll experience a high like she's never felt before while using. I've heard that from a few people who have been clean off meth for a few years, actually. :) Good luck and light to your cat.
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