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Pudding 2

My therapist didn't know what to think when I confessed my story of the pudding. On one hand, I had a sense of contentment that I could have died with a smile on my face. But at the same time, everyone was so concerned about me taking drugs and being on antidepressants, and they would probably be worried if I suddenly took a huge dose of OxyContin. My mom's reaction to me wanting to go wasn't any better—she was enraged that I told my therapist something like that, but I guess she was just trying to protect me from someone who'd drug me without my conscious approval.










































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