I'm sitting in the stall gripping a clear plastic bottle filled with a yellow-orange liquid. The label on the side reads 'For all day non-drowsy cough and cold relief'. It's a cheap knock-off store brand as I don't have the spare money to buy the name brand stuff. My hands are trembling, palms sweaty...if someone could hear me, they'd make a joke about mom's spaghetti. I hate this stuff, but at the same time I love it.
I pick at the shrink wrapped plastic around the cap and peel it away. I'm struggling with the child-proof cap. Why do they make these bottles so damn hard to open? Success! I get the cap off! Only to be mocked by the foil seal over the mouth of the bottle. I glower at the thin silvery barrier that's between me and my first hit of the day as I drag my nail over it like an aluminum scab. Decades ago some psychopath poisoned several packages of over-the-counter painkillers, which prompted a massive recall and re-released their products with tamper-resistant seals. Because of a single asshole who got their jollies off on poisoning random people, I now have to work doubly hard just to get my hit. I hate this stuff, but at the same time I love it.
Finally my nail pierces the foil and I peel it away. I lick the residue off the bottom of the foil and from the tip of my finger, waste not-want not. I lift the neck of the bottle to my lips and start drinking it like a bottle of soda. It's thick and syrupy, the label reads 'New orange flavor', it tastes like someone rubbed an orange onto an asshole, then used that to make the flavor...I'm making a guess and don't speak from experience. After a few minutes I drain the bottle, smacking the sides to get every last drop I can, then licking the residue from the neck and lip of the bottle, and from my lips. There was a time when a bottle of this size would have lasted me two weeks, now I can barely go a whole day without downing a full bottle...sometimes two if it's a bad day. Putting the cap back on the now empty bottle then putting the bottle, along with the unused little measuring cup back in the box. In my backpack there's another full bottle of this off brand non-drowsy cough and cold syrup, along with a couple of boxes of liquid-filled gel tabs for when the rush of the syrup wears off and I need a little pick-me-up. I should quit, say something to my friends or one of the principal about my addiction, but part of me doesn't want to quit and has forgotten how to cope without it. I hate this stuff, but at the same time I love it.
Setting the box that contains the empty bottle on top of the toilet paper dispenser, I lean back on the toilet to wait for the stuff to kick in as I think about why I started using cough and cold syrup regularly.
It was a little less than three years ago. I had stepped through the mirror portal and arrived in Canterlot City. I was completely without a rudder, no friends, no money that could be used here, no guidance from Princess Celestia. Back in Equestria I was twenty and was the human equivalent of a second-year college student, here I was barely fifteen years old and I high school sophomore. Instead of trying to build bridges and make friends, I instead chose to be a bully. I terrorized the student body, usually with the threats of violence and occasionally with violence. I didn't earn any friends, but I did get a couple of toadies. Of course toadies aren't friends, they just agreed to go along with me either out of fear of the violence I might inflict on them or because they wanted to feel strong too or because they wanted to get their mitts on other students' lunch money and weren't strong or tough enough to beat them up themselves, or maybe they thought by going along with me, I might spread my thighs for them. Who can say really?
I got introduced to what they call robo-tripping when I encountered a couple of students in the senior class drinking a bottle of cough syrup each. I had asked them about why they were drinking cough syrup like soda. One replied, "It makes you see some fucked up shit." "And it makes me forget about the stresses of tests and junk.", the other replied.
One of them offered to sell me one of their unopened bottles and I forked over a wad of cash I had taken off of several students earlier that day. Seeing as I had no friends and being a bully meant I never got invited anywhere, I had plenty of time on my hands. One of the students told me to start out drinking one or two of the little measuring cups, and that i could go up from there.
Downing the little measuring cup twice, the feeling came over me. I got lightheaded, everything got fuzzy and I started seeing things. Every time I had some spare cash, I started buying buying bottles of cough and cold syrup. Two things nobody ever told me: One--Cough and cold medicine is addictive because it contains a weak narcotic. Two--The more you use it, the more your body builds up a resistance to it and the more you have to take. Over time I went from using one or two little measuring cups to get high, to down a half a dozen measuring cups, to downing a whole bottle just to get through the day. Since I've made friends and started getting invited to places, I've tried to get clean, to go cold turkey. But that just made me feel sick and tremble, which always sent me running back. I should tell someone about it, that I need help, but I don't know how to cope without it. I'm hiding this secret from my friends. I don't deserve them, friends don't keep secrets and that disgusts me. But I down a bottle of that syrupy poison and all those bad thoughts go away for a little while. Maybe I deserve to die, drifting away in a syrupy haze for being such a capitol C Cunt for all these years.
There it is! That rush! I've been waiting for the caffeine and the other non-drowsy junk they put in it to kick in. It takes about fifteen to twenty minutes for that initial rush of energy to kick in...which means that in another minute or two the--Ah yeah! There it is! The lines of reality start to blur. My head feels light and my eyes feel swimmy. As flowering vines and creepers start growing on the walls of the stall, I take the earbuds out of my backpack and plug them into my phone...a little music helps to enhance the trip. I know in a couple of hours I'll start feeling sick when I come down and start hating the syrup, but right now I love it, it makes the corners of my mouth curl up and the day feel brighter. There's something in the back of my mind that's niggling at me, but it's so far away right now that it's nothing to worry about.
Ugh! I feel sick! I'm sitting in study hall for free period. I crashed just before the bell rang for free period. I'm going to have to start drinking more of the syrup, just a swallow or two, so it can last as long. I quickly glance around to make sure no one's looking at me, then fumble around in by backpack for a couple of the gel tab. Suddenly like a lightning bolt to the brain, that thought that had bee niggling at the back of my mind hits me full force. I forgot to throw away the empty bottle! Okay, calm down. If I'm lucky, one of my fellow students or a janitor found it, though that it belonged to someone who was sick and threw it away. Worse comes to worse, they brought it to a teacher or one of the principals. If they figure out that one of their students, there's no way anyone can know it was me. Right? I hate this stuff, I hate how it makes me feel when I come down, I hate how it fogs my brain, I hate how it made me forget something so small as throwing away the empty bottle, but at the same time I love it.
Crushing a couple of the gel tabs between my teeth, I know it won't be enough, so I wind up eating the entire blister pack. Come on, come on! Work! Work! Just kick in already so I don't feel so sick and I can think a little clearer! Calm down. It takes fifteen to twenty minutes for it to kick in. Just be patient. Don't think about you leaving the empty bottle in the restroom stall. I wind up eating a few more gel tabs. Right now I hate myself, but that will go away for a little bit one the medicine kicks in.
I wake up on something cold and hard. What time is it? There's a sticky feeling on the side of my face and my teeth feel gritty. My phone ringing woke me up. Rising to my hands and knees, I see what caused the sticky feeling on the side of my face...in my passed out stupor, I rolled off the bed and puked in my sleep. There's several empty bottle of cough and cold syrup on the bedside table. Picking up my phone, I see that Twilight...the fifteen year old genius human girl who skipped a few grades, not the pony princess, calling me. I press the green icon to answer the phone. "Hello?"
"Sunset, is everything okay? You haven't been at school for a couple of days?"
Did I go on a binge again? "Uh, no, I-I mean yeah. I just had some pony business to take care of back in Equestria for Princess Twilight. I got back in last night and was pretty wiped out." I hate lying to my friends, bur they'd stop being my friends if they knew I was drinking cough and cold syrup like soda.
"That's good to know. Rarity came by your place yesterday and nobody answered. We were all worried about you."
I run my finger through the little sticky, partially dried puddle of syrup on the bedside table and lick the residue off it. "I'm alright. Like I said, pony business with Princess Twilight and whatnot."
"Are you going to come to the sleepover tonight?"
Sleepover? Is that tonight? "Um, uh...yeah! I'll meet you all uptown in a few hours. I've got some errands to run."
"Meet us at Burger Princess?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Bye-bye!"
"Bye." I press the red icon to hang up. Looking at the date and time on the phone, I realize that it's ten o'clock Saturday morning. What was it that sent me on a binge? Think! Think! Oh, right. Principals Celestia and Luna, along with Nurse Redheart had ordered all the students into the auditorium Wednesday morning. It turns out the janitors had been finding my empty bottles and pill boxes in the trash cans around school for a while and were trying to find out who they were, then a student had found the empty bottle I had left in the restroom stall and brought it to a teacher. That sent me into a panic. Then they gave us all a lecture about the dangers of abusing cough and cold medicine, then put on an outdated PSA film about the dangers of addiction.
In an attempt to calm my nerves, I swilled down both bottles of daytime cough and cold syrup, then ate all three boxes of daytime cough and cold gel tabs. I was all in a tizzy when I got home and started downing bottles of cough and cold syrup I kept in a shoebox under the bed. I counted the empty bottles on the bedside table and scattered on the bed and floor. Twelve! I had downed twelve! No wonder I was out of it for a couple of days. Did I down them all at once or did I space them out over the two days? I can't remember. My head is still foggy. Pulling out the shoebox from under my bed, I count the remainder.
Four! I have four left! Not enough to get through the weekend! Especially if Celestia and Luna are onto me! I crack open a bottle and start guzzling it down. Before I knew it, I grabbed another bottle and started guzzling it down. I need to stop now! Two bottle are enough! You're going to pass out and sleep for a few hours! Just stop! My hand grabs a third! I can't stop!
I grab the phone and frantically fumble to unlock the screen. I'm getting sluggish and sleepy. I press what I hope is one of my friends' number.
"Hello?"
Principal Celestia's voice comes through the phone. Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck! "I can't stop--drinking ssssssss-yrup." My voice is slurring. The world is getting fuzzy and spinny.
"Sunset? Is everything okay?"
My hand grabs the last unopened bottle. The cap twists off and it comes to my lips. "Iiiiii can' shtop--" Blackness.
*beep-beep-beep-beep*
"Does anybody knows how much cough syrup she's drank?"
What's going on? Where am I? Who's this talking?
There's a high-pitched electronic squealing.
"Doctor! She's crashing again!"
Blackness.
"--got her back!"
I'm drifting a a grey fog. There's no light, no dark, no up, no down, no front, no back. Just grey emptiness.
"According to her principal who found her, there were at least sixteen empty bottle in the room with her."
Who's talking?
"Sixteen!? Christ in heaven!"
Can somebody tell me what's going on?
There's a bright light shining in my eyes. I try to shield my face, but my hands won't respond.
I open my eyes. I'm not in my room. The walls are an off-white on color.
"Good, you're awake!"
I turn my head and there's a man wearing a white coat. "Huh?"
"Just take it slow." He walks over to me.
"Where am I?"
"You're in Canterlot General. You overdosed on cough syrup."
"How long have I been here?"
He flips through some papers on a clipboard. "Uh...two days. I'm honestly surprised you're awake this soon with how much you downed. If you hadn't have called your principal, nobody would have found you."
***
It's been a month since I've gotten out of the hospital. I'm sitting in a hard plastic chair in a room in Canterlot City's public library. In my hands is a pamphlet for an addiction psychological rehabilitation group I'm a part of called Breaking The Chains. There are other people all sitting in a little circle in similar hard plastic chairs.
My hands are trembling slightly. I feel sick. I need a bottle of syrup.
There's a balding man sitting in a similar chair to us holding clipboard with some paper on it. "Group, we have a new member with us today. Would you all like to introduce yourselves?"
One by one they introduce themselves, say that they're an addict, say how long they were using, what got them started and how long they've been clean. I was expecting the same-old-same-old that I had heard in the PSA films at school. 'It all started when I puffed that first joint. The next day I was shooting up heroine and selling my body for the next hit.' Instead I started hearing the stories of people trying to escape domestic abuse, or were homeless, or who had no friends and started using to forget about their pain or loneliness and then things got out of control.
I need a bottle of syrup. Suddenly all eyes are on me. I freeze unable to speak. I don't know how to cope. I need a bottle of syrup!
A hand comes to rest on my shoulder, breaking me out of my spiraling thoughts. I look over and recognize the guy who introduced himself as Ram Ierez. "It's okay. Just take it slow. We've all been where you are now. We all know what you're thinking. Just take a breath and start with your name."
I nod, take a breath and swallow hard. "My name is Sunset Shimmer and I'm an addict." I pause for the inevitable 'Hi, Sunset', but it doesn't come. I guess that's another thing I can chalk up to the movies lying. "I started abusing cough syrup two and a half years ago. I started using be-because..." I close my eyes as tears started sting them and lines of hot wetness started trickling down my cheeks. "I started using because I had no friends and was lonely. Using made me forget I was lonely for a while. When I found some friends, I tried to quit, but found out I had forgotten how to cope without the syrup. After a while, things got out of control." It feels good to speak it, to publicly admit why I started using and that things got out of control.
The balding man introduces himself as Doctor Clean Slate. He talks about how we're all strong individuals who fell into weakness and that it's a sign of strength to ask for help when dealing with something that we feel has gotten to big to handle on our own.
For an hour the other people struggling with addiction talk about the last time they've used, what they've been doing to stay clean and about new and good things that have been happening since they've gotten clean. I surprised to hear about how many of them went back to using over the past few months and the tears the shed upon sharing.
Clean Slate assures them individually that clean and healthy is a journey, not a destination and that relapsing is part of the process.
I mill about the room for the last five minutes or so. The coffee sucks, but the snacks are okay. Clean Slate gives me a pamphlet with a blank page on the back. Ram Ierez says he'll be my rehab buddy, writes his number on the blank page, says to call him if I'm ever having problems and he'll help me out.
***
It's been four months since I wound up in the hospital. I'm supposed to be at a sleepover with my friends, but instead I'm sitting in a restroom stall at the park. There's a half empty bottle of cough syrup in my left hand. I was doing so good! But then the urge to hit the syrup hit me hard and I bought a bottle from the grocery store. I was doing so good! Then I went and did something stupid.
I fumble around in my backpack for my phone and hit the emergency contact.
"Hello."
"Ram Ierez, it's Sunset. I've got a bottle of cough syrup and I'm using. Please come and stop me."
"Where are you?"
"I'm at the park in the women's restroom."
"Stay there. Don't go anywhere. I'll be there as soon as I can. Pour it out, if you can."
"I-I-I can't!" The bottle comes up to my lips.
"I understand. Don't go anywhere. I'll be there as soon as I can. Do you have someone you can call that can keep you there?"
"Uh-huh."
"Call them, I'll be there as soon as I can." The line cuts off.
I thumb through my phone and tap the number.
"Sunset, where in th' world are--"
Tears leak down my cheeks and my breath hitches. "Applejack, I'm using again and I can't stop."
"Christ almighty. Ya were doin' so good."
"I know. I'm stupid."
There's arguing over the line, then Fluttershy speaks through the phone. "Sunset, where are you?"
"I'm at the park in the women's restroom."
"Did you call your rehab buddy?"
"Uh-huh."
"Good. We'll meet him there. Stay put, we'll be there in three."
Right before the line cuts, I hear Fluttershy shout, "Get your asses in the car! Sunset needs our help! Now!"
For such a shy, soft-spoken girl, Fluttershy can be an absolute force of nature when someone she cares about is in trouble. I lift the bottle to my lips and then stop. I've already downed half the bottle, but now I know there's people coming to stop me. Applejack with rip the door off the stall, or Rarity will use one of her diamond shields to pry the latch open, or Twilight will blast the hinges to dust with her telekinesis, or Pinkie will explode the door with her explosive confetti, or Fluttershy will get her squirrel friends to slip the latch, if they have to. If I'm passed out or too incoherent.
I lean the bottle away from my face and dump the remainder onto the floor. I hate they syrup, but I have people who love me. I slipped up today, but I didn't take it too far.
