The first time I ever tried cocaine was when I was 16 years old. I was drinking a little too much at Bradley’s when I felt like I was going to vomit. I went to the bathroom with my friend (Girl #1) when she told me that I would feel better if I just did one bump of coke. I shook my head. No fucking way.
“It’s not like you’re going to become addicted with one sniff. It’s really tiny and I promise you’ll feel so much better. Look, you can watch me do it.”, she said while dipping her long nail into the bag of white powder.
She rubbed her nose and let out a dramatic exhale.
“Now you try.”
I reluctantly agreed and let her draw out a little bit for me. She brought it up to my right nostril and I breathed it in.
Instantly, I felt better. I felt this weird sensation in my head but it felt good. I stood up and felt great. It was a very euphoric feeling and I felt my chest tighten from the adrenaline.
“You want another?”
Wow. I felt like I could fucking fly if I wanted to. I wanted more and more and- gross!
I had tasted the drip.
“Ew! What the fuck?!”, I said, twisting my face.
Girl #1 was dabbing lipstick on her pout and she stopped when she started to giggle.
“Ohhh, yeah, that’s the drip. It tastes like shit.”
I chugged the rest of her vodka drink and it still wouldn’t go away. Still, it was worth it to feel this good. It all started to make sense why people loved it so much. I felt like Al-fucking-Pacino. We continued to keep partying and indulging in more snow.
When I finally laid down at 4 AM, I couldn’t fall asleep for the life of me. I just wasn’t tired. I danced for what seemed like hours and sweat buckets. How come I still felt so on?
I eventually did fall asleep and woke up to the worst hangover imaginable. I felt gross and depressed as hell. I called Girl #1 to complain of this horrible feeling. She just laughed.
“Yeah, that’s a ‘come down’. It’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
The hangover finally subsided in the late afternoon.
I cursed myself for wanting to do coke again. It was like a happier adderall high. It made me feel so alive. Why did it have to be so bad for you? I would’ve traded it for Adderall, Ritalin, and Vyvanse any day.
A week later, I asked my friend if she had anymore left. Luckily, she did and I looked forward to doing it again with her that night. Another thing about cocaine was that it made me not hungry which was perfect! All of the calories from the alcohol would seemingly be erased with a little bit of fairy dust. That night I drank even less and did more coke. I hated that it didn’t last very long. And I reaaaaallly hated constantly having to do another bump to get back up. At least, I just had to take one pill of adderall in the morning for a day-long high.
I want to say this is around the time that I came back from my first trip to Tokyo. I did it a couple more times before I took a break from it. The hangovers were really starting to catch up to me and it was driving me nuts. A month or two later is when I would become bulimic.
I tried it again in October of 2012 when I was 17. I was at LURE Nightclub in LA and people were doing it at the table. Let’s just say that LURE isn’t the most civilized of places. I danced and danced with strangers before hopping in a cab to go home. I wouldn’t do it again until I returned home to Florida in March 2013. I started noticing that it was more and more rampant in West Palm Beach. I had been completely oblivious to this fact.
My tolerance was beginning to build up and I needed more and more coke when I went out. It made me start to resent the drug and I tried to space out my usage and only do it on the weekends if someone else had it.
Don’t get high on your own supply.
I was returning to LA in early June and I couldn’t wait to be back in my apartment. I missed the anti-humidity air and views of the Hollywood Hills. I couldn’t wait to start working again and be reunited with my Ford family. I was so excited to be in LA for the summer and I looked forward to the weekend trips to Malibu. I said a sad goodbye to my mom before getting on the plane and she was in hysterics. She told me she had the worst feeling in her stomach about me going back. Hm. Weird.
I met Kelsey a week later and asked her to move in with me four days later. She was there to work for two months and was living in that artsy weird area of Downtown LA. She was like my new Alexandra. We started going out twice a week and ended up going out almost every single night. She was so innocent and completely unlike me which was cool. She was a virgin who had never done coke and didn’t smoke. She liked to sit on the couches and sway to the music whereas I liked to be dancing on tables. She always turned the other way when I did coke.
This is when it really started to escalate. I began doing it more and more each night and staying up later. I could get the best blow at Teddy’s on Monday nights because there was a drug dealer guy there who I shared mutual friends with. He always gave me a couple free lines and never pushed anything else onto me. A guy friend who I always hung out with usually accompanied me on these “quests”. He told me he liked my collar bone and asked if he could do a line off of it. I agreed and this became our little party trick.
Doing cocaine was my favorite part of going out at night. I convinced Kelsey to finally try it and she became hooked as well. Bottle poppers at clubs would give us little vials and we would do half of it before giving it back. They thought that this would make us want to fuck them. It never did.
Kelsey was leaving soon and that made me super depressed. I needed her. She was my other half. What the fuck would I do without her?
I just did more coke. That’s what I did. I continued my partying ways and loved every minute of it. I knew that I was living a very fast life and it wouldn’t always be like this forever so why not savor it now? I knew that one day I would snap out of this but for the time being, it was amazing.
I never thought it was dangerous until my friend and I did some in the bathroom of a club. Instantly, my nose began burning horribly. The same thing happened to her and she started irrigating her nose with water.
“That shit is cut with something.”, she said.
I shrugged it off and rejoined the rest of the revelers.
I did it again a couple days later while on a date with a guy I had been seeing. He took me to Pearl’s on Sunset and I excused myself to the restroom to do a quick line. As I was walking out of my stall, I felt something trickling down my face. I looked in the mirror and saw that I had a bloody nose!
Holy shit, what do I tell him?
I texted him that I got a bloody nose and told him to go upstairs and wait for me.
I emerged from the bathroom and he was waiting for me with his arms crossed. My eyes widened when I saw his angry expression. He grabbed my elbow and brought me to a secluded area.
“Listen, this isn’t fucking cool. I don’t know what you think you’re doing but this shit is bad, Megan. You are 18 and you don’t understand what this will do to you but I’ve seen it ruin my friends.”, he finished and forcefully let go of my arm.
I didn’t care what he had to say about it.
Fuck it. Fuck him. I don’t have a problem. I’m just having fun.
A couple weeks later, I would be at a party where Scott Disick was and I would try something worse. It was cut with something.
“Holy fuck! Holy fuck! Dude, I feel like I can’t really move. What is that shit?”
I was terrified. I felt paralyzed. I couldn’t even see straight. Was I overdosing? What was happening to me?