News (Media Awareness Project) - New Zealand: Hooking Users On The First Hit |
Title: | New Zealand: Hooking Users On The First Hit |
Published On: | 2002-06-10 |
Source: | Manawatu Evening Standard (New Zealand) |
Fetched On: | 2008-01-23 05:25:16 |
HOOKING USERS ON THE FIRST HIT
People are being warned about the prevalence of "P", a potent form of
methamphetamine. Anna Wallis talked to four people who have used the drug.
All are now in rehab at the Shiloh Retreat and Renewal Centre near Feilding.
James was given "P" by his uncle when he was almost 17. He was dragged off
the drug by the same uncle when its effects became catastrophic.
"Everyone round Dannevirke was using it. I got it for free from my uncle. I
felt like Hulk Hogan on it: 10 feet tall and bullet proof."
James used P to win drinking competitions, which made him enough money to
buy the drug.
"I took bets at $50 a time to drink people under the table.
"Alcohol had no effect on me when I was taking P. I could keep going without
sleep for nine days on the trot."
It was a different story when not using the drug.
"When I was off, I was very paranoid. I thought the cops were after me. I
thought they were outside my bedroom window all the time."
He kept going on the drug for a year.
"When I first tried it, I loved it. That first buzz - it was just like being
reborn again.
"But I started losing weight. I lost it, really.
"I looked like a f***ing mess. Just fried. I was P'ed off my face all the
time. I looked 20 years older."
His uncle started reducing the amounts he gave him.
"He could have kept me going for another 10 years, but he kept on getting me
smaller amounts. He warned my mates not to give it to me and told them if
they sold it to me, he'd close them down."
Now at Shiloh, James has been off the drug for about five weeks.
Michael, 35, began using P after he struck trouble with his usual source of
drugs - morphine being used by the elderly for cancer.
"I was running out of old people's homes to burgle. Lots of mates were using
it. It's a different buzz than morphine, but easier to get."
He has been using P for five years. He said the recipe for the drug came
originally from The Book, a kind of illicit drugs compendium that sold for
about $1000 before the internet came along and published the information for
free.
"The Book listed every kind of drug available and the ingredients. Every
junkie knew about The Book. And it pays to have good knowledge so you don't
blow yourself up. I didn't make it myself, but was in the circle that did."
Before entering Shiloh six weeks ago, Michael was spending a $1000 a week on
P, financed through smash-and-grabs around Auckland.
"I wasn't really sleeping. I spent every waking moment getting out of it or
figuring out how to get money to get out of it. I was having three to four
hits a day."
His decision to quit came after several friends overdosed, and for the sake
of his daughter, who is nine and living with him at Shiloh.
"I was basically ashamed of myself."
As well as using P, Michael used other drugs, including Ritalin, prescribed
to a friend's child. Drugs could still easily come his way.
"Right now I could go into town, tap someone on the shoulder and get some
within 20 minutes. Any pub, anywhere. It's that easy."
And the gangs make it even easier.
Bob, a former gang member, said gangs market the drug with "open days",
where potential users are given a free sample.
"That's how they hook them. Just one taste was usually all it took. People
would come up and ask when was our next open day, so they could bring a
friend."
P is also used by the gangs to maintain vigilance as well as an income.
"In a gang, you have to stay alert and awake. On P, you can go for two weeks
and then you crash. And that may be for three days straight. People had to
get me up so I didn't piss myself."
Michael spent 13 years as a gang member and is in his late 30s. He is now in
hiding after quitting the gang scene.
His time with a gang meant he has always been around class-A drugs.
"Before P, it was speed. They've always had their own chemists. And some of
the best chemists are in jail. You can pick up the knowledge there."
The labs the gangs run are sophisticated operations.
"A lab can have equipment worth a quarter of a million dollars. You're going
to be very careful not to blow them up. The equipment doesn't came cheap.
There are smaller operations, but the gangs had big operations. Making
bigger batches is far more worth your while."
Gangs will also swallow up the smaller operators.
"It's known as `doing an earner' when you go and get what they are cooking."
It was this stand-over tactic that cost Debbie everything she had.
The former massage-parlour worker is now trying to get back some of what she
lost, including her four-year-old son.
Debbie, now in her mid-30s, spent four years on speed before trying P for
the first time last year. In between was a stint in rehab.
"I had been using speed in Pukekohe from 1996 to 2000, but when I moved to
Manurewa, there was none available. I could only find P.
The change was remarkable.
"The difference is that speed is 8-percent pure. P is 90-percent pure. The
first time you take it, you feel you are about to explode. It feels as
though it's going to blast the top of your head off."
She started working in a massage parlour to pay for it and where the drug
was common.
"All the girls knew where to get it."
After three months, Debbie left the parlour, but a flatmate could get the
drug for free. The arrangement worked well for Debbie, until the flatmate
asked if her friends could use the garage for a "cook", which Debbie agreed
to.
"I didn't recognise my own garage . . . it looked like a proper lab in the
movie, with pipes and things bubbling away. I didn't go in, but would take
them out a coffee now and again."
The arrangement was supposed to only last a short while, but turned into
something more permanent. To get rid of them, Debbie turned to a neighbour
for help.
"He contacted the gangs, but they just took over. I ended up having to leave
my own house. I went to the police and while they were quite supportive,
they wanted more information than I could give."
To get away, she went first to a women's refuge, then a community house and
then out of Auckland to Shiloh. She is on the run from the gang, but
suspects they "will forget about me in a year or so".
She lost her house, left most of her possessions behind and after years of
using speed and most recently P, has lost custody of her son.
"I had custody until I started doing P and then his father noticed I was
doing more and more of it and was out of it all the time. I wasn't eating
and lost about 20kg."
One of her concerns about the drug is the number of young women who will try
it and then be used by those who supply it to them.
"They will get what they can make out of you."
Debbie, with the help of Shiloh, is working on a new custody arrangement for
her son.
Her experience with P has had a profound effect. P sends endorphins
screaming round the body in that first hit. But as use continues, the
production of endorphins slows and it becomes harder to get the same
response. For a drug supposed to provide joy, it has had the opposite effect
on Debbie.
"I can't remember when I last felt happy."
* Real names were not used in this story.
People are being warned about the prevalence of "P", a potent form of
methamphetamine. Anna Wallis talked to four people who have used the drug.
All are now in rehab at the Shiloh Retreat and Renewal Centre near Feilding.
James was given "P" by his uncle when he was almost 17. He was dragged off
the drug by the same uncle when its effects became catastrophic.
"Everyone round Dannevirke was using it. I got it for free from my uncle. I
felt like Hulk Hogan on it: 10 feet tall and bullet proof."
James used P to win drinking competitions, which made him enough money to
buy the drug.
"I took bets at $50 a time to drink people under the table.
"Alcohol had no effect on me when I was taking P. I could keep going without
sleep for nine days on the trot."
It was a different story when not using the drug.
"When I was off, I was very paranoid. I thought the cops were after me. I
thought they were outside my bedroom window all the time."
He kept going on the drug for a year.
"When I first tried it, I loved it. That first buzz - it was just like being
reborn again.
"But I started losing weight. I lost it, really.
"I looked like a f***ing mess. Just fried. I was P'ed off my face all the
time. I looked 20 years older."
His uncle started reducing the amounts he gave him.
"He could have kept me going for another 10 years, but he kept on getting me
smaller amounts. He warned my mates not to give it to me and told them if
they sold it to me, he'd close them down."
Now at Shiloh, James has been off the drug for about five weeks.
Michael, 35, began using P after he struck trouble with his usual source of
drugs - morphine being used by the elderly for cancer.
"I was running out of old people's homes to burgle. Lots of mates were using
it. It's a different buzz than morphine, but easier to get."
He has been using P for five years. He said the recipe for the drug came
originally from The Book, a kind of illicit drugs compendium that sold for
about $1000 before the internet came along and published the information for
free.
"The Book listed every kind of drug available and the ingredients. Every
junkie knew about The Book. And it pays to have good knowledge so you don't
blow yourself up. I didn't make it myself, but was in the circle that did."
Before entering Shiloh six weeks ago, Michael was spending a $1000 a week on
P, financed through smash-and-grabs around Auckland.
"I wasn't really sleeping. I spent every waking moment getting out of it or
figuring out how to get money to get out of it. I was having three to four
hits a day."
His decision to quit came after several friends overdosed, and for the sake
of his daughter, who is nine and living with him at Shiloh.
"I was basically ashamed of myself."
As well as using P, Michael used other drugs, including Ritalin, prescribed
to a friend's child. Drugs could still easily come his way.
"Right now I could go into town, tap someone on the shoulder and get some
within 20 minutes. Any pub, anywhere. It's that easy."
And the gangs make it even easier.
Bob, a former gang member, said gangs market the drug with "open days",
where potential users are given a free sample.
"That's how they hook them. Just one taste was usually all it took. People
would come up and ask when was our next open day, so they could bring a
friend."
P is also used by the gangs to maintain vigilance as well as an income.
"In a gang, you have to stay alert and awake. On P, you can go for two weeks
and then you crash. And that may be for three days straight. People had to
get me up so I didn't piss myself."
Michael spent 13 years as a gang member and is in his late 30s. He is now in
hiding after quitting the gang scene.
His time with a gang meant he has always been around class-A drugs.
"Before P, it was speed. They've always had their own chemists. And some of
the best chemists are in jail. You can pick up the knowledge there."
The labs the gangs run are sophisticated operations.
"A lab can have equipment worth a quarter of a million dollars. You're going
to be very careful not to blow them up. The equipment doesn't came cheap.
There are smaller operations, but the gangs had big operations. Making
bigger batches is far more worth your while."
Gangs will also swallow up the smaller operators.
"It's known as `doing an earner' when you go and get what they are cooking."
It was this stand-over tactic that cost Debbie everything she had.
The former massage-parlour worker is now trying to get back some of what she
lost, including her four-year-old son.
Debbie, now in her mid-30s, spent four years on speed before trying P for
the first time last year. In between was a stint in rehab.
"I had been using speed in Pukekohe from 1996 to 2000, but when I moved to
Manurewa, there was none available. I could only find P.
The change was remarkable.
"The difference is that speed is 8-percent pure. P is 90-percent pure. The
first time you take it, you feel you are about to explode. It feels as
though it's going to blast the top of your head off."
She started working in a massage parlour to pay for it and where the drug
was common.
"All the girls knew where to get it."
After three months, Debbie left the parlour, but a flatmate could get the
drug for free. The arrangement worked well for Debbie, until the flatmate
asked if her friends could use the garage for a "cook", which Debbie agreed
to.
"I didn't recognise my own garage . . . it looked like a proper lab in the
movie, with pipes and things bubbling away. I didn't go in, but would take
them out a coffee now and again."
The arrangement was supposed to only last a short while, but turned into
something more permanent. To get rid of them, Debbie turned to a neighbour
for help.
"He contacted the gangs, but they just took over. I ended up having to leave
my own house. I went to the police and while they were quite supportive,
they wanted more information than I could give."
To get away, she went first to a women's refuge, then a community house and
then out of Auckland to Shiloh. She is on the run from the gang, but
suspects they "will forget about me in a year or so".
She lost her house, left most of her possessions behind and after years of
using speed and most recently P, has lost custody of her son.
"I had custody until I started doing P and then his father noticed I was
doing more and more of it and was out of it all the time. I wasn't eating
and lost about 20kg."
One of her concerns about the drug is the number of young women who will try
it and then be used by those who supply it to them.
"They will get what they can make out of you."
Debbie, with the help of Shiloh, is working on a new custody arrangement for
her son.
Her experience with P has had a profound effect. P sends endorphins
screaming round the body in that first hit. But as use continues, the
production of endorphins slows and it becomes harder to get the same
response. For a drug supposed to provide joy, it has had the opposite effect
on Debbie.
"I can't remember when I last felt happy."
* Real names were not used in this story.
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