Overdose − 23 January, 2007
Interesting night, and this is certainly a case of putting it mildly.
I had just turned out the lights and was about to go to bed when I hear someone knocking on my door. I think at first that it's Sarah, and I'm slightly annoyed at her intrusion into my plans. But I open it to find Brittany and Samantha shaking outside in the hall, their faces wearing identicle masks of both apology and weariness. It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes since I left their room.
"I had a bad dream," says Samantha.
Samantha had apparently woken up screaming and thought she saw someone in her room. She woke Brittany up and both came to mine to get me. I lay on the floor between the two that night, a sentry of sorts. I didn't get much sleep.
I talked to Samantha a while before turning out the lights. Things inevitably turned to how I felt about her, and she apologized for loving her boyfriend. I couldn't tell if she were apologizing for my benefit, or if it was herself she felt sorry for.
The conversation ebbed and I lay with my hands behind my back looking up at the ceiling. The air felt heavy and it seemed as though I may suffocate in my thoughts. I must have sighed, as Samantha asked me what was wrong.
I told her I didn't want to talk about it, and I found that I meant it this time. She pushed me, but I just shook my head. I could feel my body growing cold.
"No, Josh. Tell me. Now."
So I relented. I sighed again.
"When you have these certain drugs, like Prozac or Zoloft, and you take a whole lot of them at once, it'll kill you."
"Uh huh..."
"But if you don't take quite enough, it makes you really, really sick."
"Josh..."
"That's why I was sick today, Samantha."
"What?"
I hated to tell her this. Of all people it was her I didn't want to find out. But I felt obligated to tell her. She just lay there for a long time, blinking back the tears as they came. I got the usual questions, Why? How much did you take? and so forth.
What do you think would have happened to me?
I need you, Josh.
I don't think I could handle that.
I was blanketed by a guilt so powerful I squeezed my eyes closed against her stare. I know, I said. I'm selfish. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
There's something wholly frightening about waking up to find that you're still alive. It's almost like each breath is someone else's, and every step you take is one taking you further than you should have gone. I felt like I was continuing to play a game I'd already lost.
I'll fix this myself, Samantha, I told her. Don't worry about it.
She did though, and I loved her for it.
Comments:
kga245 (February 1, 2007. 12:08am)
Hey, man. You ok now? This is kinda recent. I feel for ya.
Oblivious (February 1, 2007. 12:21am)
For the most part I'm alright. I would be happier if I wasn't worrying so many people, but I suppose I've no one to blame but myself.
pepero (February 1, 2007. 08:41am)
i just found out that a childhood friend of mine took her life 15 years ago. now i feel numb and saddened. you're still so young. your words really touch me. your life is only beginning... *hugs*