I can't swallow pills.

 Since I was a kid, I have not been able to swallow pills.  In fact, when I was a kid, swallowing pills was traumatic for me.  As an adult, every so often I try to swallow pills - I realize that life would be so much easier if I could just swallow a pill.  Alas, I am full of fail when it comes to the whole pill swallowing process.  

I was told to practice with peas, tic tacs, ice.  Put the pill in food, some bread.  Chin up, chin down... This girl couldn't swallow a pill to save her life.  Seriously.  If I ever have a condition where I have to take a pill daily (and with ADHD I regularly have to take adderall, but cannot take it at the moment because my blood pressure is too damn high due to stress, etc), I will be screwed.  With my adderall, I would crush it and put it in pudding.  The same with xanax or hydroxizine or whatever I'm taking.  This particular medication, though, specifically says in big block text on the label DO NOT CRUSH.  

I tried to swallow them - I wasted three pills trying to swallow.  I tried bread, water, even a spoon of pudding.  (I don't like applesauce - it's the texture that makes me cringe.) Nothing.  I started searching the internet for a liquid version.  There's a liquid version.  Sometimes, I swear, doctors or nurse practitioners mess with me and send me pills just because they know I can't swallow them.  At least this time around I didn't throw up like many attempts in the past have ended with.  

What happens is this:  I put the pill in my mouth, I try to swallow and the minute anything thick or heavy hits the very back of my tongue at the top of my throat, my throat closes.  It's like "Nope, you're not going down the esophagus.  Reverse now!"  When I was little and I couldn't swallow pills, there were several occasions where my Mom would physically hold me down and put the pill in my throat.  This would normally be taking place while I was screaming and crying and having what I now know to have been an autistic meltdown.  That shit was traumatic to me.  My Dad would try and hide the pill, which would usually end up with me still chewing it, and probably another reason why I don't like applesauce.  I still maintain the majority of why I don't like applesauce is the weird texture, but I distinctly remember liking applesauce at one point in time.  Now, not so much.  I've always been an odd duck. 

I used to end pill attempts in tears.  I was constantly made to feel bad for my lack of ability.  I was told that I wasn't trying, that I just needed to try harder, it didn't matter how many times I would upchuck the pill, spit it out, etc.  I was made to believe that I was absolutely and completely inadequate and I was wrong.  It's just now at the age of 45 that I'm finally starting to let myself off the hook for this stuff.  Before now, I would be defiant - "You can't make me take pills and I'm not going to."  I survived on gummy vitamins, chewable pills, giving myself an adult dosage of kids medication or liquid medications.  Now, I still do those things, but I also give myself a dose of grace.  I can't swallow pills.  I learned my Aunt Janet, who is much older than me, can't swallow pills either.  In fact, there are apparently a lot of people in our family that can't swallow pills.   I'm not the weirdo anymore.  I think that helps with the mindset. 

The funny thing is, I tell people almost every day that they can do anything if they put their mind to it.  I'm very much realizing that just because you WANT to do something with every fiber of your being, you may not be able to.   There is nothing wrong with that.  There is nothing wrong with accepting limitations.  Just like there is nothing wrong with challenging yourself.  The line that I'm trying to find is the one that says "Okay, you tried. Good for you."  And I think that's where I need to be... I need to tell myself that I did try.  I gave it my all.  In this case, I wasted three pills trying to swallow this medication.   I'm not a horrible person because I couldn't swallow it, I am just me.  I'm not any less of a person because of this.  I may be a slightly less healthy Jess, but I'll talk with my doctor and find something that works for me.  

Now, the trick is actually getting a doctor to listen to you and not be dismissive.   I'll let you know how that turns out.