Susan James

Answered Oct 20 · Author has 807 answers and 9.5m answer views

The only drugs I use now are a little alcohol, a little marijuana, and nicotine (I’ve tried to quit smoking many times but always relapse.) However, in my early to mid-twenties, I regularly used amphetamines and cocaine while having sex with many different men. I never had to buy drugs because men would trade them with me for sex. I wasn’t a strung-out junkie; I had a good job, a nice apartment, a new car, and nice clothes. But the combination of depression, stress and an out-of-control sex drive drove me to use drugs mixed with sex. It started when I tried cocaine at a party. It made me super horny and I had sex with three guys at once. I loved the experience so much that that I started regularly hanging out with guys who would give me cocaine in return for sex. I also started using amphetamines daily. I was really suffering from depression but amphetamines made me feel great, full of energy, sociable (I had a lot of social anxiety), cute and sexy. Amphetamines supercharge your sex drive, making you unbelievably horny. They also lower inhibitions so that you will try any kind of sex. And they make you (and guys) able to last for hours. I reached the point where I would spend all weekend high and having sex. I loved the sex and loved the attention from guys. No matter how many times I got fucked I wanted more. Needless to say, word got around and there were always guys ready to fuck me. I would be in a room and guys would come in, fuck me, leave, and then more guys would come in and fuck me. I can’t tell you how many guys I would fuck in one weekend. Eventually I’d get so strung out and exhausted I’d fall apart. I’d then use tranquilizers or alcohol to deaden my frenzy and I’d crash and sleep for hours and hours. Next weekend I’d do it all over again. I was also trading sex for drugs during the week, but the weekends were for the big sex parties.

Obviously, this couldn’t go on forever, though I did keep it up for about four years. Eventually, though, it all fell apart; and I did to. I had bad sexually transmitted infections; I got pregnant and had an abortion; I crashed my car and plead guilty to DUI; I got fired from my job; I got raped by a group of guys who left me naked in the median of a busy freeway on a freezing February night. I know, you’re all thinking I was lucky I didn’t die but when I reached my lowest point I wished I had died. I felt like a glass figurine that had been flung against a concrete wall and shattered into a million sharp fragments.

Fortunately, there was an angel who saved me. There was an older woman who I had been involved in an off-and-on lesbian relationship for a few years. When everything fell apart and I was homeless and broken, she took me into her life and helped me put the pieces back together. I lived with her for two years, went through a substance abuse program, and eventually rebuilt my life. Then, I got a good job offer in another city. She couldn’t come with me and I couldn’t pass up the offer, so I left her. Two years later, she was diagnosed with cancer and died within three months. I still grieve for her.

I’ve learned to channel my sexual desire into safe channels by having sex with a circle of friends-with benefits and polyamorous couples. I only have a little alcohol or marijuana in social settings and my friends know when to stop me. Nicotine still has me in its grasp, though. I am well aware of how unusual it is for anyone of my age, education, and profession to smoke but I indulge myself. I especially like to have a cigarette after sex.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=3902866&forum_id=2#35478501)