The following story is based on an actual experience and several assumptions. While some parts might be innnacurate because my memory regarding this incident is terrible, I will try to say it as I remember. Now, we can start. ~~~~ READ WARNINGS PLEASE ~~~~~~ Once when I was younger, I took medicine for my ADHD so I could be "normal". None of it ever worked and it was before I knew why you shouldn't take more than they tell you. I was 9, and for some reason I had assumed that more medicine was better. I wanted to be normal so my mom would be happy, so I ended up taking 13 times the recommended dose. I ended up getting terribly sick on Mother's day and I remember how it felt. My heart was racing and I was shaking all over. My mind was burning and I don't really recall what else happened. My mom rushed me to the emergency room. The next thing I remember was blacking out. I had no clue how long I was asleep for, but it was completely blank. No sound or dreams. When I did come to a few times, I remember a big machine- I can't tell what it was for but I remember being too tired to stay up. When I came to again, I overheard them talk about said dosage issue, apparently it'd be enough to kill an overweight old man. I passed out again, the next thing I remember is the IV. The weird sensation of drinking water through my arm. I remember playing in the playhouse, but. Sometimes something would malfunction and I couldn't speak. I'd be in incredible pain but unable to speak. When they finally fixed it, I resumed as normal. The only thing I remember besides that was that I was apparently in a coma for 2 weeks, and that I forgot most of the worst of it. I don't know for sure how I got out of it, but I think that same burning continues around my soul when I get angry enough. My best guess is that we got lucky. Ever since that time, I haven't been able to take pills. Not once. But specifically only capsule pills- everything else is fine. I also remember being much calmer about needles way back then. I don't remember the details, but I'm sure there's a reason for that. Due to a concern with my head, we had to visit that same facility again. While my memory of it is at best scattered, there's a tinge of unease in certain areas. My mother seemed far more uncomfortable though. I suppose I was lucky I was that young, or that my memory is so bad. Who knows how I'd act if I remembered why I hated needles. I haven't taken medicine for my ADHD or Autism ever since that incident, and I think it was for the best.
(WARNINGS! THE STORY CONTAINS SPECIFIC MEDICAL TERMS, NEEDLES, PILLS, MENTION OF OVERDOSE, AND OVERLY DETAILED ☆TRAUMADUMPING☆)
