Two Miligrams of Xanax

Yesterday, at about ten O' clock last night, I had a particularly violent episode which involved an acute fear of unpainted, white walls. As there is no use in reasoning with we during these times, my parents helped me (and them) cope in the only way they could-- giving me extraordinary amounts of medication, which was, in this case, Xanax, as I seemed more "anxious" than "psychotic." In the end, I ingested two milligrams before passing out in the dog bed. I then dreamed that I dropped my laptop, which the screen then leaked out of, catching my hand on fire. Not only was I unable to scream, instead of sending an ambulance, the hospital sent Hitler. And he was riding a tricycle.

When I returned to a semi-conscious state, I was a was all "WTF? Why am I in the dog bed?" so I climbed into the huge cushy leather chair nearby, all without really waking up. I then felt guilty because I knew our dog, Mary the Moo Cow, needed to go into surgery to remove an infected tooth, but I was too drugged up to do anything about it.

I woke up around ten, where I managed to read a bit, and eat a staggering amount of toast, eggs, and sausage, before fatigue took in and I went to lay down and take a nap. My brain, however, wanted a bedtime story, so I ended up thinking up a page turner in which I discover my superpower-- hallucinogenic vomit. A cross breed of a dragon and our next-door neighbor's cat then held me captive so it could be high all the time, and forget that my next-door neighbors are really dog people at heart. Naturally, I needed someone to rescue me, but I couldn't decide on who (it was between Leonidas, King of Sparta, or Batman as played by Adam West) when by brain interrupted to say-- if you're thinking this up, how can you be sleepy? I was coming up with a retort for that when my drugged body passed out again.

I then woke up at six thirty, to my father banging on the door to tell me that the spaghetti was ready. I mumbled something incomprehensible, but it was too late-- I was awake. I wasn't hungry, so I surfed the internet, and came across this article-- http://listverse.com/2010/12/21/top-10-abused-prescription-drugs/ --and saw the section on Xanax. I don't see how anyone could take the two milligram bars and not go completely crazy or pass out instantly. I'm still reeling, and it's almost been a full day since I took the pills.

I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this, except for drugs are bad, and my psychiatrist seems to have given my parents the go-ahead to train me for a possible future as a hobo that is constantly high. I'm not quite sure if this makes sense, but I found writing this cathartic and amusing, so I hope you like it as well.