Junior year was quite a time for me. There was my class presidency campaign, tryouts, drugs, and PSAT’s. The thing that obviously sticks out is drugs.
Now, I’ve never been into drugs, never will be. The time that I lowered myself to even dabble in it, was a time where social acceptance was extremely important to me. I remember thinking I was so cool as I walked to the drinking fountain over by my English class. This is what everybody does, I was going to be part of it, and I was going to look awesome. Biggest understatement of my life.
As I strolled up to the waterhole, I hesitated. If I was caught, it was the end for me. I would be expelled and I could kiss all my dreams goodbye. I still did it though. No consequence could ever rival everlasting popularity, and the two pills in my pocket were my ticket to just that. I decided to take just one, wanted to play it safe as I could. I slurped the water, and the pill sank into my gut. I smiled and said, “This isn’t going to be so bad”. And as I walked down the hallway back to class, I started to feel a little droopy. I assumed my mind was playing tricks on me.
Finally, I slumped into my seat. I told myself I couldn’t be feeling it already, I literally just took it. Oh no, but I was really feeling it. I started to droop even more. It was so hard to move, I couldn’t understand what was going on. I didn’t even know what the pill was that I took. My heart started thrashing against my chest. The sound was banging in my ears. I was afraid. I made an effort to grab my pen, and scrawl on a piece of paper a note for help. I motioned for my friend Nathaly to read it, but she looked confused. I thought I was writing words, I thought I was being coherent. I just wrote scribbles, all they were was lines. I felt like I was having a heart attack, I wanted someone to help. I couldn’t get anyone to understand.
The bell blared, and it was time for 4th period. Nathaly knew something was wrong, and she walked me to my next class. I just sat there. Kandee Alexander came up to me, and I managed to say one last word before the full effects of the pill kicked in. I said “Pill”, and my hand fell onto my pocket. She went in my pocket and took the other pill, and then told my best friends I needed to be watched. The news circulated around the class, and soon everybody knew I was loaded. We weren’t doing anything in class, everyone could gawk and get as close to me as much as they wanted. Perfect, right? I looked around. I felt so sick, I wanted to leave so badly. Everyone was staring, it was embarrassing. I tried to tell people I was embarrassed. I tried telling people I wanted to go home. All that came out were slurs and mumbles. I couldn’t understand. I was able to think normally, but whenever I tried to talk it wouldn’t work. I was locked inside my head, just watching as people laughed or stared. People took selfies with me, and I couldn’t do anything because I wasn’t able to move. I wanted to cry so bad. This wasn’t what I wanted. Everyone took pills. Everyone was fine when they did. Why was I any different? I sat in that hellhole for 45 minutes. I was going to run for class president, I was going to be in yell-leading, I had the PSAT’s next week. I put all of that on the line, for 45 minutes of being trapped in my mind. People talked about how green I was, asked if I was overdosing. My heart started pounding again. This is it, I’m going to die. I’m going to die a fu*king drugged up virgin. Obviously, I was over-exaggerating, but that’s what was going through my head. Cortney took me outside after the bell rang for lunch, and gagged me into puking. Sour acidic liquid came forth, but nothing changed. I was still a ragdoll wannabe, or something.
Finally, she shoved me in her car and drove me home. I slept it off, and woke up a long time later. I typed in the physical description of the pill I took, and found that it was meant for crazy people. Like, schizophrenics and people with massive bipolar issues. It’s used to dumb you down, so you’re easier to manage. Then I thought: the pill didn’t dumb me down, that was all me. I did it to myself. I was being so stupid and superficial, that I basically poisoned myself. I wanted my friends to look at me like I was a badass, all they did was look at me like I was an idiot. I was ashamed of myself. The people in my school who popped pills were morons, and I knew that. I knew that, and I still did it. I wanted to be a moron, the morons were cool. That’s exactly what I became. My friends wouldn’t talk to me for days. I had to hangout in the library, which isn’t the social hub I had become accustomed to. The school caught wind, but since there was no evidentiary support, I was set free.
During this time, I reflected on a lot of things. Why was this so important to me? The people I was trying to impress were already my friends. It’s not like I was an outcast. So why? I feel like it was because I wasn’t secure with myself. I was always worried of whether I was liked or not. I probably would have done a lot worse given the opportunity. It was so trivial and superficial. I hated it, I hated the way I thought. So I decided to change that. After I apologized to my friends, and everything returned to normal, I remained more aware. Want to know what I gathered? People liked me just as I was. I joked, they laughed. I told stories, they listened. I didn’t even need the pills. It was all just my self-doubt. It’s not like you have to go to great lengths for people to like you. As cliché as it sounds, you, really, just have to be yourself. I mean, if everyone was drinking their hot steamy piss, does that mean you’d do it just to fit in? Seriously, just be real and people will be real to you.
So don’t go shoving pills meant for lunatics down your throat, or anything else, just to feel accepted. All it really does is just lowers yourself and your self-esteem more.
