Gather ‘round, you beautiful bandwagoners, you supplement-swallowing sycophants, and let me tell you a story. It’s not about dragons or princesses, but something far more terrifying: wellness culture.
A cautionary tale for the modern wellness warrior who believes if one vitamin is good, a bathtub full must be transcendent. Spoiler alert: your urine will be very, very expensive.
Our hero, whom we shall call Sir Reginald, was a man of his time. A time of anxiety-spirals masquerading as Instagram feeds, where influencers with unnervingly white teeth sold him solutions to problems he never knew he had. His problem du jour? A vague sense of “lethargy.” Not “I-didn’t-sleep-well lethargy,” but a deep, philosophical lethargy that he was certain could be solved with a purchase.
After a deep dive into the internet's most reputable medical sources (a comments section on a blog about crystal healing), Sir Reginald had his diagnosis: B12 Deficiency. The horror! The scandal! He, a man who could afford artisanal almond milk, lacking in a vital nutrient? Unacceptable.
So, he did what any rational person would do. He declared war on deficiency.
It began innocently enough. A little sublingual tablet each morning. He felt a buzz, a zing! “By Jove,” he exclaimed to his mildly concerned cat, “it’s working!”
But what if one zing was… not enough? What if two zings were better? What if he could achieve a state of perpetual, humming ZINGDOM?
Sir Reginald escalated. He bought B12 sprays, B12 patches, B12-infused kale smoothies that cost more than his electricity bill. He mainlined B12 shots with the fervor of a 1980s Wall Street broker. His medicine cabinet looked less like a healthcare station and more like a poorly stocked GNC that had been hit by a tornado. His urine, a subject he discussed at tedious length at dinner parties, turned a fluorescent, otherworldly yellow—a hue scientists call “Charter School Bus.”
He was a god among men! A vibrating, humming, energy-efficient god! He cleaned his entire apartment at 3 a.m. He reorganized his bookshelf by the emotional resonance of the protagonists. He emailed his boss a 15-point plan to revolutionize the paperclip industry.
But then, the ZINGDOM began to crumble.
The boundless energy curdled into a jittery, all-consuming anxiety. His hands shook so violently he could no longer hold his artisanal almond milk latte. His skin, once pale and interesting, broke out in a rebellion of acne not seen since his teenage years. He developed a headache that felt less like a headache and more like a tiny, angry woodpecker living behind his eyes, pecking in morse code for “PLEASE STOP.”
The final straw came when he found himself passionately arguing with his refrigerator about its "negative energy." The refrigerator, in its silent, condescending way, had won.
So, how much B12 is too much, you ask? Well, let’s consult the ancient, sacred texts (also known as basic human biology).
For the average person, B12 is the overachieving student of the vitamin world. It’s water-soluble. Your body takes what it needs—a modest, sensible amount to help your nerves and blood cells function like respectable, upstanding citizens. The rest? It gets unceremoniously flushed away in that liquid neon artwork you produce.
But here’s the twist, the moral of our little story: You can, in fact, have too much of a good thing. While your body is excellent at excreting the excess, forcing your system to be a constant nightclub for B12 can lead to a delightful array of party fouls, like the acne, the anxiety, and the general sensation of being a live wire tossed into a puddle.
The real tragedy? Sir Reginald was never deficient to begin with. He was just tired because he was staying up until 2 a.m. reading about vitamins on the internet.
So, the next time you feel the siren song of a supplement bottle calling your name, ask yourself: Do I need this? Or am I just one vague symptom away from declaring a personal ZINGDOM?
The answer, my friends, is probably less exciting, and involves more sleep and fewer arguments with major appliances.
And they all lived grumpily ever after, in a state of perfectly adequate, non-vibrating health.
The end.
👉 “Want to see how the Treadflow stacks up against more versatile options? Check out our guide to The Phantom Menace: A Vitamin B12 Story
"Disclosure: Affiliate links included. I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you."
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