>>12483896
The First Dose
That night, I swallowed my first pill. I remember the chalky bitterness as it hit my tongue. I waited for something—relief, calm, maybe even sleep. Instead, I felt a kind of heaviness seep into me, like lead being poured into my veins. My thoughts slowed. My body sank.
By the third day, I noticed something else: my appetite. It wasn’t hunger the way I knew it before. It was insatiable, ravenous, as though my body had been rewired to crave food constantly. I raided the kitchen at night. Bread, cheese, whatever I could find. I ate until my stomach hurt, and still, the urge didn’t fade.
Within a week, my face changed. I caught my reflection in the mirror one morning and froze. My cheeks were puffy, my jawline blurred. The infamous “moon face.” I didn’t recognize myself.
I felt betrayed by my own body. I hadn’t asked for this. I wanted help, not a mask. I wanted clarity, not sedation.