Today, I sat on my bathroom floor and poured out the contents of my prescription bottle onto the fuzzy bath mat. There were 32 serotonin filled capsules, 31 once I broke one open. Serotonin syndrome can be fatal. I read yesterday that it would take about 37 of those capsules to induce serotonin syndrome which could lead to fatal seizures. Considering I'm only 5'1 and 100 pounds, I thought 31 would work. Now taking 31 pills all at one time would most definitely be a hard task to complete, so I thought of a way to make consumption easier. I would break open about half of the pills and pour them in a drink to dissolve. That left about 15 to swallow. That shouldn't be too difficult considering I have been swallowing pills my whole life.
I had my plan. I had my poison. I had my privacy. And yet, I scooped up the serotonin capsules from the bathroom floor and poured them back into the bottle. Because just outside of the bathroom, my best friend was writing an essay. And back home, I had three dogs who loved to cuddle up to me. And three sisters who wouldn't understand why their big sister was never coming home. And a mother and father who would have to bury their daughter in the cemetery down the road from their house, so whenever they were on their way home, they would pass by her grave. And my boyfriend and all of my friends would be wondering if they could have done something or if it was their fault. And there are millions of children in pain that I could potentially help someday. I could be the doctor I had always dreamed of having.
And so I will keep taking my serotonin capsules at the dosage my doctors prescribed to give my friends and family an ease of mind that I am okay. Because in moderation it is healthy, but can potentially be fatal.
