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At 12 you are thinking of boys and friends and sometimes grades. No 12 year old should be thinking of death rite?
That is just how some people are I guess. But I was different. I was alone with my head every second. And being alone with your own head can be the worst thing in life.
Other girls were haveing their mothers teach them how to put make-up on and starting to wear skirts that came just above the knee. But you would never see me dressed like that. I always said, "if your beautiful, you can look good in sweats".
Every one thought I was just a person proving a point about how over rated looks can be, but in reality I was hiding behind those sweats...
Even my closest of friends thought that I was ok. They always said I was a pessimist. But wasn't every 12 year old?? I never trusted any one and still to this day I have trouble with that, but it seems to be getting a little easier.
When you say the word "weed" to a young kid they go to the back yard and pull it out of the ground and smile knowing they helped their mommys' garden. But what about that small percent that goes to the coner, hangging their head because they already know the truth about the world? Or at least they think they finally figured it out...
The world was mine in every way. I just never saw it that way. I thought that I was the only one who ever felt as low as I did. I judt didn't know how to feel better.
But one day I discovered a bottle of small pills. They were called CODINE. I knew when my mom had mouth surgery that they messed her up. So I took one...
I layed on my floor, I felt nothing at all. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't sad either. I liked the way I felt. I finally slept through a whole night with out any thoughts or dreams. This was obviously what I had been missing. This miricle pain pill... where have you been all of my life??
I started and ended every day with one of these pills. Thank God for refills. But then it wan't enought to make me feel the way I did the first time I took them, now what? I started taking more. And not just in the morning and at night. Now they went with me where ever I went. They were my armor. They protected me from...myself. I had no desire for anything except for these pills. They were my higher power. I always wondered why every one didn't take these. I knew doing drugs was bad. But these were legal. They had no bad side. You always watched Tv and saw the junkies smoking pot, or shooting dope. Never taking pills!
Finally, like all things do, it came to an end. No more pills. No way to get more. What was I going to do? I took any pill that I thought would make me feel good. I got it! I knew that my Grandparents had a huge med. cabinet. So that was where I found more "fuel". But I didn't know what all of them were. At the time that I stole them, I thought I knew what they were. So now here I am with about 20 pills. HUM?
I had a friend back then that I thought the world of. She took pills with me, and we had so much fun together. We were like sisters. I talked to her the day I stole those pills. I told her that I would bring them to school the next day. She said she would round up some too.
That morning my mom found some beer in my room. I told her that I had a sip and didn't like it. She had no idea what I was doing while she was at work. Also on top of all of this, a friend of mine and I had pulled a prank at school a few days before that had cost me a suspension. It was about a week before the end of the school year. They told me that after this day, don't come back untill next year. So this was my last day of school.
I got there and took my first pill, I don't know today what that pill was, but I think I knew that day. I also knew that the big pink pill was only for emergencies. It was some kind of pill for my Grandpas heart. I kept that one seperate. I met up with my friend, she had a handfull of pills too. We took about 4 and went on our way.
Now, when I would take pills I would get depressed and very iritable. So these teachers that I hated, were talking to me and asking me what was wrong. I seemed sick. And now I know that I was. I said I had to puke and left my classroom.
By now taking these pills was no longer a game. It never hit me untill it was to late that I was actully trying to kill myself. But there I was in the bath room, I took out some of my pills and sat infront of the window to smoke a ciggarett. I was once again alone with my head. It was like I was getting fuzzy. I would look in the mirror and see my out line, but there was no longer a face. Just a hazzy image of who I used to be.

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