Back in my teens, I had a nasty bout of sinus issues, stemming from allergies.
This was in the late eighties, and Benadryl was pretty much what everyone had. It was the default antihistamine.
So, with my dad at work, and my mom needing to handle shit, I just grabbed some supplies and holed up in my room.
Took a dose and then napped. Woke up, took the next dose, napped again.
This cycle continued for two days. Or so I thought.
I woke up at one point with he-man leaning out of the screen of the TV and talking some crazy shit. The walls were breathing, and the rug on the floor was crawling away.
Now, I don’t know how long I lay there just watching everything wiggle and squirm into and out of other dimensions, but my mom got home and brought me the drink I had asked for. She had left about three hours before.
To my best estimate, I took something like eight or ten of the damn things. I know I took at least six. There were two pills to a dose, and I could remember taking three doses for sure, but there were five of the blister packs empty, one of which might have been taken by my dad the week before, nobody could remember if it was from that box or the other we had. During all the dosing and sleeping, I thought it was days, and that makes the five doses a decent likelihood.
It was. . . Interesting.
For several days, I was loopy as hell. Not high, just kinda floating through life. And my dreams were even crazier than usual (I’ve always had intense dreams, still do) for about a week
Benadryl and wu-tang have that in common, they ain’t nothing to fuck with.