They say that the first things animals hear when they enter this life is the voice of their mother. When I came back to this life I heard something like “if you’re a good boy I’ll untie one every half hour”, definitely not Elizabeth, my mother. It was sometime around three in the morning. The only light in the inky blackness was provided by a three foot by six inch window showing the nurse’s station. I didn’t have my glasses so everything more than a foot away from my face was distorted, but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed, I was tied to my bed. What would you do if you found your wrists and ankles fastened to a bed? I began to bite at my bonds. This upset the male nurse reading in the dark; I think he was supposed to supervise me. He told me rather forcefully that he would untie me if I was a “good boy”. So I laid back and fell asleep. When I awoke it was day and I was untied, apparently I was a good boy.

I want to say it was around seven in the AM. Elizabeth came and sat by my side. I can’t remember what I said. She said I was über-pissed. Soon there came a social worker. He talked about my family dynamic and why I did what I did. He asked if I was safe to go home. I essentially told him to f-off and die. After he left my mom looked at me with sad, weary eyes, she wanted me to be safe. We watched TV and I fitfully slept. Dinner came and it was heavenly. I had the best cake I can ever remember. I was almost like a Napoleon, but was not a soggy. I think it had coconut in it, that pastry was the highlight of my day. Finally a nurse came in with bits of paper. She gave them to Elizabeth to sign. She told me in a mocking tone “no more Tylenol”, I think I grinned sardonically at her. We collected my meager possessions and left.

Days later I was told that I became violent during my blackout and I punched a nurse in the face when she held me down. Mom said I tried to pull out my IV. That was why I was tied up. I felt bad about hitting the nurse, yet I had no qualms about treating my mom like a lower form a life, interesting.

It turns out that there is Benadryl (hydrocortisone) in Tyelnol PM. In small doses it induces sleep; in large doses it makes you crazy. I was also told that I would have destroyed my liver because of all the acetaminophen (Tylenol) I had consumed. That chemical kills your main filter cell by cell until your skin turns yellow and you die. But my liver moves on and so do I. Why did I want to die? I wanted to know what death was like, a much more noble reason than wanting attention, like my suicide threat a few weeks after this odyssey. Looking back I don’t want to put my mother, or any other family member through what I put them through that February evening. I don’t want to experience death until I have tasted life. This and the label “manic depressive” are what I took from my attempt--my vain attempt to experience the eternal.

Nick B.