Personal Narrative: Tylenol Overdose

According to Google, the lethal dosage for acetaminophen is 10 grams.
As I scanned the painkiller aisle in CVS for the least expensive option that would do the job, my eyes rested on a small bottle of extra-strength Tylenol. 24 tablets, the bottle read, 500 milligrams each. I quickly worked that out in my head to be 12 grams. Perfect. I grabbed the bottle and walked hurriedly toward the cashier. For a moment I panicked, wondering if somehow he knew what he was about to help me do. But the transaction was over quickly, and I stepped out into the cold December air, my six-dollar death sentence in hand.
It was still snowing as I began my walk home, trying not to think about what I had just done. Various health websites had informed me that Tylenol overdose causes liver failure, which can be fatal if not treated immediately. Apparently it is fairly common and is one of the most lethal overdoses, as far as over-the-counter drugs go. Shoving the bottle in my pocket, I told myself that I would only use it as a last resort, but a part of me knew from the time I had started working on this plan that it would only be a matter of time

I had never felt so sick or so scared before. The nurses acted fast, administering an antidote to the Tylenol through an IV in my arm. As soon as my mom heard the news, she dropped everything and made the two-hour drive to the hospital, arriving after midnight. I felt ashamed that she had to see me in that state, and guilty for how much I must have worried her. I spent my first two days there hooked up to machines and too weak to stand up for longer than a couple minutes at a time, and she stayed by my side. As I sat with my too-large hospital gown wrapped around me, I no longer felt sad, just completely empty. I stared out the window for hours, wondering how I had let my life get to this point. Looking back, I guess I didn’t realize how low I’d fallen until I hit rock