Question for x meth users

dannyboy602

Well-Known Member
I have this room mate. His name is James. He's originally from Oregon. He was a hardcore meth user for years and "found God" after his wife died. His two kids were taken away by the court.
James is a simple guy. Real simple. He mumbles and has full conversations with his chihuahua whose name is Squirt. James would remind anyone of the guy from Slingblade who is frightening to look at but harmless otherwise.
About two months ago I started noticing pills missing from my methadone bottle. Thirty the first time, the second time it was about twenty missing. I thought at first it was his young friend Damian who took em.
I asked James not to invite Damian into the house anymore. Then I still noticed missing pills and was concerned James might be taking them. I definitely had built some trust towards James and didn't think it could be him but decided to place small pieces of paper in between the door and the frame so if anyone went into my room when I wasn't home the paper would fall to the floor.
Anyone with half a brain would see it was a trap but James doesn't have half a brain. Last week the small piece of paper I placed there wasn't even on the floor, it was placed on top of my dresser next to the door.

I have a small nanny cam coming that I bought off Amazon but as you know anything you buy from China takes forever. I'll place it in the medicine cabinet so as to catch the face of anyone opening it. Its motion activated. I'll also switch out the pain meds for something else. I figure if (more like when) I catch him red handed I'll have some leverage. Maybe I'll go to the cops, maybe not. I would like to see him shamed for it but not necessarily jailed. I'm not sure.

My question, and thanks for reading this far, is: is a meth head always a meth head? Can they be rehabilitated? What does prolonged exposure to a drug like that do to a guy? Is meth the reason he mumbles and appears to be bat shit crazy?
What would you do? I'm looking desperately for work so I can get out of this shit hole. But right now I'm stuck. I don't even want to get started on the dirt, he doesn't clean himself or the house. I have to ask him to wash dishes. The bathtub has never been cleaned and I have to wear sandals when I shower.
Man its tough being poor...least he's not violent. I keep telling myself that...as if there's some saving grace about the guy.
Thanks for reading my rant. I can't really tell anyone else so I figured I might try to get some advice here.
 

Indacouch

Well-Known Member
I have this room mate. His name is James. He's originally from Oregon. He was a hardcore meth user for years and "found God" after his wife died. His two kids were taken away by the court.
James is a simple guy. Real simple. He mumbles and has full conversations with his chihuahua whose name is Squirt. James would remind anyone of the guy from Slingblade who is frightening to look at but harmless otherwise.
About two months ago I started noticing pills missing from my methadone bottle. Thirty the first time, the second time it was about twenty missing. I thought at first it was his young friend Damian who took em.
I asked James not to invite Damian into the house anymore. Then I still noticed missing pills and was concerned James might be taking them. I definitely had built some trust towards James and didn't think it could be him but decided to place small pieces of paper in between the door and the frame so if anyone went into my room when I wasn't home the paper would fall to the floor.
Anyone with half a brain would see it was a trap but James doesn't have half a brain. Last week the small piece of paper I placed there wasn't even on the floor, it was placed on top of my dresser next to the door.

I have a small nanny cam coming that I bought off Amazon but as you know anything you buy from China takes forever. I'll place it in the medicine cabinet so as to catch the face of anyone opening it. Its motion activated. I'll also switch out the pain meds for something else. I figure if (more like when) I catch him red handed I'll have some leverage. Maybe I'll go to the cops, maybe not. I would like to see him shamed for it but not necessarily jailed. I'm not sure.

My question, and thanks for reading this far, is: is a meth head always a meth head? Can they be rehabilitated? What does prolonged exposure to a drug like that do to a guy? Is meth the reason he mumbles and appears to be bat shit crazy?
What would you do? I'm looking desperately for work so I can get out of this shit hole. But right now I'm stuck. I don't even want to get started on the dirt, he doesn't clean himself or the house. I have to ask him to wash dishes. The bathtub has never been cleaned and I have to wear sandals when I shower.
Man its tough being poor...least he's not violent. I keep telling myself that...as if there's some saving grace about the guy.
Thanks for reading my rant. I can't really tell anyone else so I figured I might try to get some advice here.
Are you sure he's not still using ?
 

dannyboy602

Well-Known Member
K......as long as your chasing my quotes and reading I'm amused.......now share with everyone how a unemployed meff addict thinks ......your opinion and info will actually matter here .
Fdd is a good guy...never known him to be otherwise...please keep it civil
Are you sure he's not still using ?
I dont think so. Of course I probably wouldn't know anyway unless he does it in front of me. I'll look up n see what the tools of the trade look like n then take a quick look around n see if anything looks familiar.
What I read said that even stress can cause a kind of relapse causing behavioral issues.
In the end I know I gotta get outta here...just went to a job interview today. If I get it Im gone.
 

mr sunshine

Well-Known Member
I have this room mate. His name is James. He's originally from Oregon. He was a hardcore meth user for years and "found God" after his wife died. His two kids were taken away by the court.
James is a simple guy. Real simple. He mumbles and has full conversations with his chihuahua whose name is Squirt. James would remind anyone of the guy from Slingblade who is frightening to look at but harmless otherwise.
About two months ago I started noticing pills missing from my methadone bottle. Thirty the first time, the second time it was about twenty missing. I thought at first it was his young friend Damian who took em.
I asked James not to invite Damian into the house anymore. Then I still noticed missing pills and was concerned James might be taking them. I definitely had built some trust towards James and didn't think it could be him but decided to place small pieces of paper in between the door and the frame so if anyone went into my room when I wasn't home the paper would fall to the floor.
Anyone with half a brain would see it was a trap but James doesn't have half a brain. Last week the small piece of paper I placed there wasn't even on the floor, it was placed on top of my dresser next to the door.

I have a small nanny cam coming that I bought off Amazon but as you know anything you buy from China takes forever. I'll place it in the medicine cabinet so as to catch the face of anyone opening it. Its motion activated. I'll also switch out the pain meds for something else. I figure if (more like when) I catch him red handed I'll have some leverage. Maybe I'll go to the cops, maybe not. I would like to see him shamed for it but not necessarily jailed. I'm not sure.

My question, and thanks for reading this far, is: is a meth head always a meth head? Can they be rehabilitated? What does prolonged exposure to a drug like that do to a guy? Is meth the reason he mumbles and appears to be bat shit crazy?
What would you do? I'm looking desperately for work so I can get out of this shit hole. But right now I'm stuck. I don't even want to get started on the dirt, he doesn't clean himself or the house. I have to ask him to wash dishes. The bathtub has never been cleaned and I have to wear sandals when I shower.
Man its tough being poor...least he's not violent. I keep telling myself that...as if there's some saving grace about the guy.
Thanks for reading my rant. I can't really tell anyone else so I figured I might try to get some advice here.
Do you guys have sex?
 

CaliSmokes

Well-Known Member
Ima do some reading on the subject. I guess he's just a fuckin burn out from all that shit. I didnt know it destroyed your brain like that.
Some of those guys are able to hide it really well, I met one guy while growing last year up north that was really smart, even went to Penn state. But man his mind was all over the place , hed go on rambles of what started out to make sense, then slowly drifted into crazy. One day he went to far, asked to snip clones and totally butchered plants. Found his pipe in the yard, tried to blame planes flying over. Kicked him out the next day. It totally destroys the brain. Nasty stuff..
 

dannyboy602

Well-Known Member
Some of those guys are able to hide it really well, I met one guy while growing last year up north that was really smart, even went to Penn state. But man his mind was all over the place , hed go on rambles of what started out to make sense, then slowly drifted into crazy. One day he went to far, asked to snip clones and totally butchered plants. Found his pipe in the yard, tried to blame planes flying over. Kicked him out the next day. It totally destroys the brain. Nasty stuff..
Thats what Im thinkin...fuck it...Im not waiting...Im gonna start lookin for another place
 

dannyboy602

Well-Known Member
Dam...I feel sorry for the guy...that's always been a problem for me. Its like he looks up to me for guidance or something...he can't even figure out how to use my french press (he broke his kuerig) so rather than ask me every day to show him, because he needs to be shown repeatedly, he just bought a jar of instant.

There's a childlike innocence to James. Or is it stupidity? Is there even a difference? You can see it in his eyes, which can't seem to make eye contact with mine.
Was he born stupid or did the drugs make him that way? I've always wondered if the old adage was true that ignorance is bliss. He looks pretty blissful to me. Always happy go lucky. Not a care in the world. At this moment he's talking baby talk to his chihuahua. With that deep, gruff voice it sounds kind of creepy and unsettling.

I sometimes think there's a purpose for all the things that happen in my life. What could be the purpose for meeting James? Was he brought to me for me to learn something about myself? I mean, I know he won't be in my life in a year, probably less, but what is the nature of this simple human being and what could I possibly learn from him? Am I just over thinking it?
Blissfully ignorant or no I still don't trust him.

Tryna find a job in Sedona today. Red rock country. Fricken beautiful up there. Only been once. Touristy. At least what I saw in that short time. But its a great place to paint and sell my paintings.
I'm not looking forward to another hot ass summer with 110 temps. I would like to stay here in AZ just not southern AZ. I like a little cold and some snow once in a while, Idk, we'll see.

Tomorrow I have a date. With a woman. (I can hear the snickering) Her name is Christel. She's a german citizen living here in AZ. We both are artists. She does beautiful work. When I met her two years ago we had talked about rooming together in Puerto Panasco, Sonora, Mexico. Its a small, touristy, mexican fishing town on the gulf of California. Living like bohemians on great seafood, inexpensive locally made linen clothes and selling our art to tourists and spring breakers from the states.
We still might. Ive never lived in another country. It could be a lot of fun. She knows I'm not into women so there's no sexual tension. I think we'd make good room mates.
 

ANC

Well-Known Member
The number of times I burned my fingers trying to help other people, probably accounts to a large extent for why I am such a cunt these days.
If this dumbarse is still this childlike, it is time he gets a kick in the bum so he can go face life and learn it is for real. Just do it, you know he needs to grow balls.
 
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