2007-02-13

this is how people get hurt

I am from the rich white suburbs of middle-America, and so it was only a matter of time until I became a pill-popping drug abuser. All things considered, it's surprising I held out as long as I did. My ultimate downfall was brought on by my current state of health--which I assure you is neither enviable nor attractive.

When you are as ill as I am (terminal, I believe) there is only so much comfort to be had from a handful of cold pills, even if they are the mysteriously nameless Industrial-Strength cold medication your mother packed for you in the fall. For three, maybe four hours, you will reap the decongestive benefits of that Holy Grail of medication, codeine--but don't get too comfortable because it will, without fail, abandon you in the night. Sometime around two or three in the morning you will wake up in a cold sweat, peeling bedsheets from your Vape-o-Rub embalmed body and coughing in a manner that hearkens back to the days of TB sanatoriums.

And so, throwing both caution and FDA regulations to the wind, I took matters into my own hands upped my "recommended" dosage tenfold. Twenty minutes later I was greeted by a world of blurred motion and intense color so frighteningly beautiful that I almost broke down in tears. It's a difficult sensation to describe, but, my friends, until you have downed a bottle of Robitussen and subsequently been visited by the Virgin Mary/the cast of Rent in your dorm room, you simply haven't lived.

zebrasaur at 2:39 a.m.

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