I still remember how it all began. I met a boy whom I didn't even know. I remember getting his number and agreeing to meet up with him early the next morning. I remember giving myself up to him so easily, something I had vowed to never do. Afterwards, I went and bought myself an energy drink and sat on the swings facing the beach and think. Why would I ever do something like this to myself? But of course being my foolish self, I did it again the next morning with that same boy. I remember sitting in the back of the car on the way home, wanting to tell my parents about how I no longer was their innocent, perfect little daughter.
Weeks later, I remember a boy who went to my school texting me and wanting to get to know me better. I didn't know him, but I did know his reputation and everyone knew what his group of friends did. But of course, I fell for him, knowing that it would help me forget the boy from the beach.
I remember the drugs that this new boy gave me, and I remember how wonderful they felt. The marijuana sent me to another dimension, made me feel at peace with myself. The pills gave me different sensations, all so indescribable and so unforgettable. I remember it started with a pill only on the weekends, then to every other day, then to one a day, and then to every three hours or so. They became my new best friend. The only other friend I had was the new boy who was giving them to me, who was now my boyfriend. I remember, him and I breaking up and agreeing to still be friends, but of course that didn't happen. I remember feeling frantic because I needed my pills I remember going to a party because I was promised my pills from one of my ex boyfriend's friends. Together, he and I smoked and he gave me pills.
I took one. What happened afterwards, is something I will never fully be able to piece together. I remember being dragged into the back of some guy's car and him taking off my clothes. I remember him threatening to hit me if I didn't do as he told me to. I remember that whatever he did to me, hurt and made me cry. I remember my friend afterward comforting me and telling me that everything would be OK. I believed her too. I remember the story of that night got out around the school and I could always hear the whispers about me in the hallway.
But, my pill supply was running low. I needed to get some and I knew how. Later that week, another guy who was friends with my ex, told me he could get me pills if I would give myself to him whenever he wanted me. I was desperate, so I did it.
I remember my parents constantly worrying and questioning me. My poor parents, they were so oblivious. I hid it well. They thought I was okay. They thought I had a great friend group. By now, I knew that there was something wrong with me. I knew I needed to get help. But of course, I never spoke a word to anyone about how I was feeling or what I was putting myself through. Finally, it built up to the point where I couldn't take it anymore. I remember think there was no hope. No way to stop this feeling. I remember taking 600 pills in handfuls in under 20 minutes. I remember my body starting to reject the overdose. I remember throwing up the white paste of the pills and the terrible taste they left in my mouth. I remember laying down on my bedroom floor, and thinking, my friend was right, everything really is going to be okay, and closing my eyes.