The Meth Myth

“Treatment did not help me quit meth.
Those houses are run by traffickers*.
They fail the users just as they are designed to.
Anyways, I had already quit, I only went because I had nowhere to go and I hoped it would prove to my family that I was worth loving.
It failed at those things, too.
Because every place left for me to turn was accounted for just as my family had been.
Let’s be clear, meth saved my life.
I spent years alone in the woods not knowing that my phone, identity and all its purposes were controlled by traffickers who didn’t/don’t know they were/are traffickees. They have destroyed my life beyond recussitatition. But I remained barely alive, without a life, begging for death, incapable of providing it for myself.
When meth came along, i was born again.
I could try, I could speak, I could move & I did.
I came to find that the ideas people hold about the drug are a far greater poison, a far more concrete death sentence than anything the drug does. Being a compulsively honest person and seeing that this discovery ought to be known to be healed, I resisted the trap of secrecy. I underestimated the strength of the poison of opinion. Everything I did or said was confined to a traffickers frame – dehumanized. Left to choose between hiding, being subject to widespread hatred and hunting, or go back to my living deathwish, I opted for the one I hadn’t tried yet and I learned to keep a secret. In secrecy I found a new poison and began to see the lives it takes and animates like a parasite. My lifelong wish to someday be known could never be found here. My whole life my sickness had been more in the coping than the symptoms themselves, and this drug and the hiding was tearing my face further from my heart with every pull. I was pushing through, toughening up, and being eclipsed by my own callous. Between this and my deathwish it was still not enough to return to living in my hell plane.
Although it was in a hidden truth I would finally quit, really be done – This is a drug for nazi mind control and the trope-ical terror it’s users feel for emf’s is a shared reality, not delusion.
I would rather die,
Rather live a life dedicated to begging for death than be theirs.
As if it could be as easy as quitting to be self possessed.
I was theirs long before the brief dance with their drug, I would still be theirs well after.
And so I’m “clean”
Good for me,
It feels like being a rag so used up you’d toss it so it doesn’t contaminate the wash.
Everywhere i go the label “methhead” hangs as punishment for my year of hope and relative health.
I’d go back to using again if I could forget who I’d really be doing it for.
And so, because I’m responsible, I lay in my chamber, praying to anyone who won’t listen or a deaf God that I either hate, mourn, or don’t believe in for death.
I can’t go back to the legal drugs either, it’s even clearer who those work for, too.
I can’t go to the hospital or the cops, those are run by traffickers, too.
I can’t go to the people, they are drunk and deluded on trafficked propaganda which they call meds, natural fact, word of God and news.

Whenever I couldn’t try for myself anymore, I’d try for someone else. It worked so well that to care for me, I’d pretend I was that someone else. It made my righteous rage so easy, I could advocate, “how could you treat her this way?!”
Only to find this world only cares for others when the screen makes them a sympathetic character, and the traffickers control the screens, as they control everything and everyone else influenced by them, the drugs, the lies, the food, the water, the soil, everything.
Now I tell myself I do not care so much for the world, seeing according to how i was treated with their own beliefs that it does them no good.
I endeavor to relegate them to find out for themselves as they relegated me. Suppose it’s possible I could not have known any other way. Seems reasonable that no matter what I do, they never will.
Who’s to know? To say? To care?
When it was me, I’d say I only functioned as bad publicity.

*Let’s be clear human trafficking and drug trafficking are the same beast.”

-X