I got 20 vicodin from the dentist. I don't take pills because feeling even mildly high makes me have a panic attack, but I took the prescription just in case the pain was really bad. I put them in my dresser drawer. For the entire four days since, they're all I can think about. Having enough pills to kill me makes me both scared and comforted. Scary because I could kill myself, comforted because I have a way out if I want it now.
I doubt I'll take them ever, let alone anytime soon. But I have the option and for some morbid, strange reason, that makes me feel so much better.