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First Day of School
I had burning sores on my tongue and raw pain all down my throat. There were scabs inside my nose. My jaw ached from clenching my teeth so hard.
It was my first night in my new dorm room, my first night in college, and I couldn't sleep. I wandered down the hall to the kitchen, where they'd stored what remained of the snacks the RA's had provided for our little welcome party earlier that evening. There were several buckets of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. I pulled one out, and using a flimsy plastic spoon, scooped a bit of it into a red beer cup. I wasn't hungry, but I needed something to put out the fire in my throat. I swallowed one tiny spoonful after another, sighing with relief as the cool ice cream slid down my tongue and numbed the pain around my tonsils. But as soon as the ice cream was gone, the pain would come back.
It had been a great day. Everybody was nice, everybody seemed to like me. My roommate was awesome. The professors I'd met seemed interesting. I was so talkative, so personable, so alive, nothing like my usual withdrawn, awkward, haggard self. I had made so many new friends that day.
I wandered alone through the dim, quiet halls, hoping that I'd see an open door, get the opportunity to make yet another friend, or perhaps reacquaint myself with a familiar face. But everyone had gone to sleep. There were no lights, no music, no voices. They all must've been exhausted. I was too, but sleep wasn't an option for me.
I snuck back into my room, being careful not to make any noises that would disturb my new roommate. I felt around in the dark for something to read, stealing out of the room as quickly as possible once my fingers closed around a creased book cover.
I spent the rest of the night reading in the dorm lobby. When the sun came up I went back to my room and read in bed, hoping to give the illusion that I'd been there all night because I didn't want my roommate to know what was wrong with me.
I had snorted the last of it the morning I left home. I knew I'd need help getting through the stresses of my first day at college. I'm not sure I could've dealt with my parents moving me into the dorm, having to meet and converse with all of those new people, were it not for that little bag of white powder. But that night, as I gulped and swallowed and ground my teeth and tried not to think too much about how achy and worn out I felt, I knew I could never do it again. This was my new life, my new beginning. All those months I'd let speed eat away at me were over.
I never did it again. Sometimes I miss it. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be okay to do it just once in a while, just on those lethargic days that I could use help getting through. But I already know the answer to that.
5:20 p.m. 2002-11-15 diaryland