Types of Magnesium: A Buyer’s Map of Forms and Purposes

Stand in front of the supplement shelf for thirty seconds and count the bottles that say “magnesium.” There will be nine, maybe twelve, citrate, glycinate, oxide, malate, taurate, something called L-threonate priced like a small kitchen appliance. Same mineral, same periodic-table square, wildly different labels and prices.

Here’s the part the packaging rarely explains: the word after “magnesium” describes what the mineral is bonded to, and that partner molecule changes how much your gut actually takes in, how your stomach feels afterward, and how honest the marketing claims are. A capsule that’s 60 percent magnesium by weight can deliver less usable mineral than one that’s 14 percent.

So think of this article as a map, drawn from mainstream medical evidence rather than influencer enthusiasm. We’ll walk the aisle form by form, flag where the science is solid, where it’s thin, and where it’s mostly rodent studies wearing a lab coat.

Why the word after "magnesium" changes everything

Pure magnesium is a reactive metal: you can’t put it in a capsule by itself. Manufacturers bond it to a partner: an organic acid (citrate, malate, lactate), an amino acid (glycinate, taurate), or a simple mineral salt (oxide, chloride, sulfate). That partner determines two numbers that quietly compete with each other.

The first is elemental magnesiumhow much of the tablet’s weight is actually the mineral. Magnesium oxide is roughly 60 percent elemental magnesium; glycinate is closer to 14 percent. On paper, oxide looks like the bargain of the aisle.

The second number is bioavailabilitythe fraction your intestines absorb. This is where the picture flips. The NIH Office of Dietary Supplements notes that forms dissolving well in liquid, including citrate, chloride, lactate, and aspartate, are absorbed more completely than oxide and sulfate. A dense oxide tablet can pass through you largely unabsorbed, pulling water into the bowel along the way, which is precisely why some products lean on that effect deliberately.

One more piece of chemistry worth knowing: whatever the form, your body regulates magnesium tightly. Healthy kidneys excrete the excess, and roughly half to 60 percent of your total supply is stored in bone, not blood. That storage system is why a normal blood test can coexist with a chronically low intake, less than 1 percent of the body’s magnesium circulates in serum. Keep those facts in your pocket; the rest of the map makes more sense with them.

Magnesium citrate: the well-absorbed workhorse

If the magnesium aisle had a sensible default, citrate would be it. The mineral is bound to citric acid, the same compound that makes lemons tart, and the pairing dissolves readily, which helps explain why the NIH lists citrate among the better-absorbed forms.

Citrate has been used in human absorption studies for decades, so its behavior is reasonably well characterized: decent uptake, moderate cost, wide availability. It’s the form many clinicians reach for when someone simply wants to close a dietary gap, and dietary gaps are common, national survey data cited by the NIH show that a substantial share of Americans take in less magnesium from food than recommended.

The honest caveat sits in the bathroom. Citrate holds onto water as it moves through the intestine, so at higher amounts it can loosen stools or cause outright urgency. That osmotic effect is strong enough that concentrated liquid citrate is sold specifically to produce a bowel movement. For everyday supplementation the effect is usually mild, and taking it with food softens it further, but people with sensitive digestion often notice it.

Who tends to do well on citrate? Someone with normal kidney function, an ordinary gut, and a food-first diet that still comes up short, think a person who eats some greens and nuts but not the daily quantities that would cover the adult recommended intake of 310 to 420 milligrams from all sources. It’s unglamorous, well-studied, and priced accordingly. In a category full of marketing, unglamorous is a compliment.

Magnesium glycinate: gentle on the gut, but what's the downside?

Glycinate (sometimes labeled bisglycinate) bonds magnesium to glycine, an amino acid. Because the mineral rides through the gut attached to its amino-acid escort, it draws less water into the bowel, which is the polite way of saying it’s the form least likely to send you sprinting down the hall. For people whose stomachs protest citrate, that alone earns it a place on the map.

Now the downsides, because every form has them:

• Bulk. Glycinate is only about 14 percent elemental magnesium, so reaching a meaningful amount often means large capsules or several of them. People who dislike swallowing pills notice this quickly.
• Cost. Chelated forms are more expensive to manufacture, and the shelf price reflects it, often two to three times the cost of citrate for the same elemental amount.
• A thinner evidence file. The confident claims you’ll see online, that glycinate specifically calms anxiety or deepens sleep, outrun the research. Human trials on magnesium and sleep exist, but most used other forms or didn’t compare forms head-to-head. Glycine itself has been studied for sleep in small trials, which is likely where the halo comes from; that’s an interesting hypothesis, not a settled fact.
• Not exempt from limits. Gentle doesn’t mean unlimited. The tolerable upper intake level for supplemental magnesium still applies, whatever the form.

In short: glycinate is a comfort choice, not a superpower. If citrate treats you fine, the upgrade buys you mostly marketing.

Magnesium oxide: why the cheapest bottle is usually the weakest

Flip over the least expensive magnesium bottle in the store and you’ll almost certainly find oxide. There’s a legitimate reason it dominates budget shelves: at roughly 60 percent elemental magnesium by weight, it packs the most mineral into the smallest, cheapest tablet.

The problem is what happens after you swallow it. Oxide dissolves poorly, and the NIH Office of Dietary Supplements specifically identifies it, along with sulfate, as less bioavailable than the soluble forms. Absorption studies have found only a small fraction of an oxide dose actually crosses into the bloodstream. The rest travels onward, osmotically dragging water with it, which is why oxide is a common ingredient in over-the-counter products designed to relieve occasional constipation and heartburn. In that role, poor absorption is a feature.

As a daily supplement to raise your body’s magnesium status, though, oxide is a leaky bucket. You pay less per milligram on the label and keep less per milligram in your body, and you’re more likely to experience cramping or diarrhea on the way.

Is it ever a reasonable pick? Sure, if a short-term laxative effect is exactly what you’re after, or if budget is the deciding factor and your gut tolerates it. But when people say “magnesium upset my stomach and did nothing,” the bottle in question is very often oxide. Before concluding the mineral isn’t for you, it’s worth checking which form you actually tried. The chemistry, not the mineral, may have been the issue.

Magnesium chloride and lactate: the quiet middle of the map

Neither of these forms has a fan club, which is a shame, because both sit in the NIH’s better-absorbed column alongside citrate.

Magnesium chloride is a simple salt that dissolves extremely well in water: it’s literally what remains when seawater evaporates past the table-salt stage. That solubility translates to solid absorption. You’ll find it in tablets, liquids, and a growing shelf of sprays and lotions marketed for “transdermal” delivery. The oral products are legitimate; the through-the-skin claims are far shakier, a topic we’ll take up properly in the Epsom salt section, since the evidence problem is the same.

Magnesium lactatethe mineral bound to lactic acid, the compound your muscles produce during hard exercise, has a specific reputation worth knowing: gentleness. Some research suggests it causes fewer digestive complaints than other well-absorbed forms, and it’s occasionally used in slow-release formulations for people who need consistent intake without gut drama. It also appears as a food additive, quietly fortifying some beverages.

Why don’t these forms get more attention? Marketing, mostly. Neither carries a story as tellable as “brain magnesium” or “calming amino acid,” so they sit unadvertised between the bestsellers. For a buyer, that invisibility can be an advantage: middle-shelf forms with solid absorption often cost meaningfully less than the trendy chelates. If citrate bothers your stomach and glycinate strains your budget, this quiet middle is exactly where to look.

Magnesium malate: energy claims meet a short evidence file

Malate pairs magnesium with malic acid, the compound that gives green apples their bite. The internet’s favorite story about it goes like this: malic acid participates in the Krebs cycle, the cellular machinery that converts food into energy, therefore magnesium malate must boost energy and ease muscle fatigue.

The mechanism is real chemistry; the leap is not. Your cells make their own malic acid continuously and are not waiting for a capsule to deliver more. What the human evidence actually shows is modest: small, older studies explored magnesium-and-malate combinations in people with chronic muscle pain conditions, with mixed and inconclusive results. No rigorous trial has established that malate outperforms other forms for energy, soreness, or anything else.

What can be said in malate’s favor is more pedestrian and more useful:

• It’s an organic-acid salt, structurally similar to citrate, and limited absorption data suggest it dissolves and absorbs reasonably well.
• Users and some small studies report it’s fairly gentle on digestion, closer to glycinate than to oxide.
• Its elemental magnesium content (around 15 percent) is in the same practical range as other well-tolerated forms.

So the fair verdict: malate is likely a perfectly serviceable way to take magnesium, purchased for the wrong reasons. If you already own a bottle, there’s no cause to discard it. If you’re choosing between malate at a premium price and citrate or lactate at a standard one, the premium is buying you a story about apples.

Magnesium L-threonate: do the brain claims hold up?

No form of magnesium carries a bigger price tag or a bolder promise than L-threonate. The pitch: this patented form crosses the blood-brain barrier more readily, raises magnesium levels in the brain, and thereby sharpens memory and cognition. The origin story is real, researchers developed it specifically for brain delivery, but the supporting evidence deserves a closer look than the label gives it.

The foundational studies were conducted in rodents. In those experiments, threonate raised magnesium concentrations in cerebrospinal fluid and improved rats’ performance on learning and memory tasks. Impressive, for rats. Human research remains early: a handful of small trials, some industry-funded, have reported cognitive improvements in older adults, but these studies involved limited numbers of participants and haven’t been replicated at the scale that would justify the confidence you see in advertisements.

Three practical realities temper the excitement further. Threonate is one of the lowest forms in elemental magnesium, around 8 percent, so it’s an inefficient way to correct a plain dietary shortfall. It typically costs three to five times more than citrate. And no head-to-head human trial has demonstrated that it outperforms cheaper forms on any real-world outcome like memory test scores or sleep quality.

The intellectually honest position: threonate is a genuinely interesting research compound whose human evidence is preliminary. If you enjoy being an early adopter and can afford it, that’s your call. Just know you’re funding a hypothesis, not purchasing a proven result, and no supplement form has been shown to prevent or reverse cognitive decline.

Magnesium taurate and heart health: promising, not proven

Taurate bonds magnesium to taurine, an amino acid abundant in heart muscle, and the combination has attracted researchers interested in blood pressure and cardiovascular function. Both partners have independent credentials: magnesium itself is essential for normal heart rhythm and blood vessel tone, and adequate dietary magnesium is consistently associated with better cardiovascular measures in population studies. The American Heart Association includes magnesium-rich foods, leafy greens, nuts, whole grains, in its overall dietary guidance.

Where does the taurate-specific evidence stand? Mostly in animal studies, which have shown effects on blood pressure in rodents, plus theoretical papers proposing the combination could be synergistic. Human trials of this particular form are scarce. Meanwhile, meta-analyses of magnesium supplementation in general (various forms) suggest small average reductions in blood pressure, real but modest, on the order of a few points, and not a substitute for prescribed care.

A few honest observations for the buyer:

• Nothing about taurate has been shown in humans to beat ordinary well-absorbed forms for heart-related outcomes.
• Anyone with an existing heart rhythm condition, kidney disease, or blood pressure treatment should involve their clinician before adding any magnesium supplement, not because taurate is dangerous, but because these are exactly the situations where self-experimentation is unwise.
• The most robust heart-and-magnesium evidence involves food, not capsules. A cup of cooked spinach delivers roughly 40 percent of an adult’s daily need, with fiber and potassium riding along free.

Taurate isn’t snake oil. It’s a plausible idea awaiting the trials that would let anyone say more.

Magnesium sulfate: Epsom salts and the skin-absorption question

Epsom salt, magnesium sulfate, is the oldest item on this map, named for a mineral spring in Epsom, England, where bathers have soaked since the 1600s. Today it lives a double life: dissolved in bathwater for sore muscles, and taken orally, occasionally, as a saline laxative.

Start with the bath, because that’s where the folklore is thickest. The claim is that magnesium absorbs through your skin during a soak, easing muscle tension and topping up your levels. The evidence for meaningful transdermal absorption is weak. Skin is an effective barrier designed to keep water-soluble minerals out, and the small studies attempting to demonstrate absorption through soaking have been low quality, tiny samples, no proper controls. Mainstream medical sources treat transdermal magnesium as unproven, and the same skepticism applies to sprays and lotions.

Does that make the bath worthless? Not at all, warm water genuinely relaxes muscles and eases stiffness, and a ritual that gets you off your phone for twenty minutes has its own value. Just credit the heat and the pause, not the salt, until better evidence arrives.

Taken orally, sulfate sits with oxide in the NIH’s poorly-absorbed category and acts as a potent osmotic laxative, effective for that narrow purpose, unpleasant as a daily supplement. It also has serious clinical uses in hospital settings, administered by professionals for specific conditions, which is a separate world from the bag in your bathroom cabinet. For everyday supplementation, look elsewhere on the map.

So which type of magnesium is best? A side-by-side comparison

“Best” depends on which problem you’re solving: absorption, gut comfort, cost, or a specific claim you’ve read about. The honest summary is that several forms are roughly interchangeable for raising magnesium status, and the dramatic differences lie at the extremes, oxide and sulfate at one end, the pricey specialty chelates at the other.

Form	Elemental Mg (approx.)	Absorption	Gut comfort	Honest evidence note
Citrate	16%	Good	Moderate; can loosen stools	Well-studied general-purpose choice
Glycinate	14%	Good	Gentlest	Calming claims outrun form-specific trials
Chloride	12%	Good	Moderate	Solid oral option; skin sprays unproven
Lactate	12%	Good	Gentle	Underrated; used in slow-release products
Malate	15%	Likely good	Gentle	Energy claims lack rigorous human trials
L-threonate	8%	Studied for brain delivery	Generally gentle	Human evidence small and preliminary
Oxide	60%	Poor	Most laxative	Useful osmotically; weak for supplementation
Sulfate	10%	Poor orally	Strong laxative	Bath absorption not supported by evidence

My own read of the evidence, for what it’s worth: start with citrate; switch to glycinate or lactate if your gut complains; treat everything more expensive as optional. And remember the number that matters more than any form: the supplemental upper intake level of 350 milligrams per day for adults, set by the NIH, which applies regardless of which bottle you choose.

Does magnesium actually help with sleep and stress?

This is the question driving most magnesium purchases right now, so it deserves a straight answer: the evidence is suggestive, modest, and considerably quieter than social media implies.

The mechanism is plausible. Magnesium participates in regulating neurotransmitters that calm nervous system activity and plays a role in the body’s stress-response machinery. People with low magnesium intake report poorer sleep in observational studies. So far, so reasonable.

The trial evidence is where enthusiasm should meet reality. Small randomized trials, mostly in older adults with insomnia, mostly using ordinary forms rather than the trendy ones, have found modest improvements in measures like time to fall asleep. Reviews of this research consistently flag the same weaknesses: few participants, short durations, inconsistent methods. Cleveland Clinic’s own coverage of the question lands where most careful readers do: magnesium might help some people sleep somewhat better, particularly if their intake was low to begin with, but it is not a reliable sedative and the research is thin.

Two practical implications follow. First, if your diet is already magnesium-rich, a supplement is unlikely to transform your nights: the benefit signal appears strongest in people correcting a shortfall. Second, no trial has shown glycinate or threonate outperforming cheaper forms for sleep, so paying a premium “for sleep” is paying for branding. Persistent insomnia, loud snoring, or daytime exhaustion despite adequate hours in bed are conversations for a clinician, not the supplement aisle, sleep disorders have effective evaluations that a mineral can’t replace.

What kind of magnesium for tinnitus?

People searching this question deserve a candid answer, because tinnitus, that phantom ringing or hissing, is distressing enough to make almost any promise attractive. Here’s where the evidence genuinely stands: no form of magnesium has been proven to reduce tinnitus, and the research that exists is preliminary.

The hypothesis isn’t unreasonable. Magnesium plays a role in protecting the inner ear’s delicate hair cells, partly by moderating the activity of glutamate, a neurotransmitter involved in the auditory pathway. Studies in military recruits exposed to intense noise suggested magnesium might offer some protection against noise-induced hearing damage. Building on that, a small pilot study gave oral magnesium to adults with moderate tinnitus and reported that some participants rated their symptoms as less severe afterward.

Now the caveats, which matter more than the findings. That pilot study enrolled only a couple dozen people and had no placebo group: a serious limitation for a condition where placebo responses run famously high. Larger, well-controlled trials confirming a benefit simply haven’t materialized. No study has compared forms, so any claim that a particular type works for tinnitus is invention.

What actually deserves your attention: sudden hearing loss with tinnitus, ringing in only one ear, or tinnitus that pulses with your heartbeat are all reasons to see a doctor promptly, because they can signal conditions that benefit from timely evaluation. For ordinary bilateral tinnitus, proven management approaches exist, sound therapy, hearing assessment, cognitive strategies, and an audiologist or physician can map them out. A supplement bottle shouldn’t delay that visit.

How much magnesium do you need, and can food get you there?

Before choosing among forms, it’s worth asking whether you need a capsule at all. The recommended dietary allowances, per the NIH, run from 310 to 320 milligrams daily for adult women and 400 to 420 for adult men, with pregnancy nudging the numbers up. National intake surveys suggest a large share of Americans fall short of these targets from food alone, not dramatically deficient, but chronically under.

Food remains the superior delivery system, for a reason buyers often overlook: the 350-milligram daily upper limit applies only to supplemental magnesium. Food sources carry no such ceiling in healthy people, because the mineral arrives gradually, packaged with fiber, and the kidneys handle it easily. Consider what a single day can deliver:

• One ounce of pumpkin seeds: roughly 150 milligrams, nearly 40 percent of most adults’ needs in a small handful.
• A half cup of cooked spinach: about 78 milligrams.
• One ounce of almonds: around 80 milligrams.
• A cup of cooked black beans: about 120 milligrams.
• Two slices of whole wheat bread: roughly 45 milligrams.

Notice the pattern, seeds, greens, legumes, whole grains. Refined grains lose most of their magnesium in processing, which is one reason heavily processed diets run low.

The practical strategy: build the food base first, then use a supplement to close whatever gap remains, rather than treating the capsule as the foundation. This approach also makes form matter less: a modest supplemental amount of any decent form covers a modest gap.

Who should be careful with magnesium supplements?

Magnesium has a genuinely good safety profile in healthy people: the kidneys are efficient at excreting excess. But “generally safe” has real exceptions, and this is where the buyer’s map needs warning markers.

Kidney disease changes everything. When kidney function is impaired, magnesium can accumulate to harmful levels, and what’s a harmless amount for most people can become risky. Anyone with chronic kidney disease should treat magnesium supplements as a clinician-only decision.

Medications can interact, usually in the gut. Magnesium can bind to certain oral medicines in the digestive tract and reduce how much gets absorbed. The NIH specifically flags certain antibiotics, medicines for bone density, and notes that some diuretics and acid-reducing medicines can alter magnesium levels in the other direction. The pattern that solves most of these problems is simple: separate magnesium from other oral medicines by at least two hours, and confirm the specifics with your pharmacist, who can check your exact prescription list in minutes. This includes seizure and mood-stabilizing medicines: the interaction risk is often about absorption timing, and your pharmacist can tell you whether it applies to yours.

Know what excess feels like. Early signs of too much supplemental magnesium are digestive: diarrhea, nausea, cramping. Very high intakes, usually from heavy use of magnesium-containing laxatives or antacids, can progress to low blood pressure, muscle weakness, and irregular heartbeat. These severe cases are rare and almost always involve amounts far beyond ordinary supplementation, but they’re the reason the upper limit exists.

None of this is cause for alarm. It’s cause for a two-minute pharmacy conversation.

When to see a doctor

A supplement guide isn’t complete without the moments when the supplement aisle is the wrong destination entirely.

See a doctor promptly if you notice possible signs of significant magnesium deficiency: persistent muscle cramps or twitches, unexplained fatigue, numbness or tingling, or an irregular heartbeat. True deficiency is uncommon in healthy people but shows up more often with long-term digestive conditions like Crohn’s or celiac disease, type 2 diabetes, alcohol use disorder, and in older adults, groups in whom the NIH notes absorption drops or losses increase. These symptoms also overlap with many other conditions, which is exactly why they warrant evaluation rather than self-diagnosis.

Seek care urgently if someone taking large amounts of magnesium, often via laxatives or antacids, develops low blood pressure, severe muscle weakness, confusion, or a very slow or irregular pulse. These can signal magnesium toxicity, particularly in anyone with reduced kidney function.

Book a routine visit before starting supplementation if you have kidney disease, heart rhythm problems, take prescription medicines daily, or are pregnant. And remember the testing caveat from the top of this article: a standard blood test captures less than 1 percent of your body’s magnesium, so a “normal” result doesn’t fully rule out low stores. A clinician can weigh your diet, medications, and symptoms together, context no lab value provides alone.

The best use of this map, in other words, is alongside your care team, not instead of it. Magnesium is a nutrient worth getting right; it is not a treatment for anything undiagnosed.

Frequently asked questions

What are the best forms of magnesium to take?

For general supplementation, citrate, glycinate, chloride, and lactate are the strongest picks because they absorb well, according to the NIH. Citrate is the value choice; glycinate and lactate suit sensitive stomachs; oxide and sulfate absorb poorly and mainly loosen stools. No form has been proven superior for sleep, mood, or memory in head-to-head human trials, so paying more buys convenience or gut comfort, not proven extra benefit.

What is the downside of magnesium glycinate?

The main downsides are practical: glycinate is only about 14 percent elemental magnesium, so capsules are large or numerous, and it typically costs two to three times more than citrate. Its calming reputation also outruns the research, no rigorous trial shows it beats cheaper forms for anxiety or sleep. It still counts toward the supplemental upper intake level, and people with kidney disease need medical guidance before using any form.

Is it safe to take magnesium with seizure or mood-stabilizing medicines?

Often yes, but confirm with your prescriber or pharmacist first, because the answer depends on your specific medicine. Magnesium’s most common interaction pattern is binding to oral medicines in the gut and reducing their absorption, which is usually managed by separating doses by at least two hours. A pharmacist can check your exact prescription list in minutes and tell you whether timing matters for yours: a far safer route than guessing.

What kind of magnesium is best for tinnitus?

No form of magnesium has been proven to help tinnitus. One small pilot study of oral magnesium reported reduced symptom severity in some participants, but it had no placebo group and hasn’t been confirmed by larger trials, and no study has compared forms. See a doctor promptly for sudden, one-sided, or pulsing tinnitus; for ordinary tinnitus, proven approaches like hearing evaluation and sound therapy are better starting points than supplements.

Does magnesium help you sleep?

The evidence is modest and mixed. Small trials, mostly in older adults with insomnia and low magnesium intake, found slight improvements such as falling asleep a bit faster, but reviews consistently note weak methods and small samples. Benefit appears most likely in people correcting a dietary shortfall, and no trial shows glycinate or threonate outperforming cheaper forms. Persistent insomnia deserves a medical evaluation rather than an escalating supplement routine.

Can you take too much magnesium?

Yes. The NIH sets the tolerable upper intake level for supplemental magnesium at 350 milligrams daily for adults; food magnesium doesn’t count toward it. Early signs of excess are diarrhea, nausea, and cramping. Very high intakes, usually from heavy laxative or antacid use, can cause low blood pressure, muscle weakness, and irregular heartbeat, with the highest risk in people with kidney disease, whose bodies can’t clear the excess.

Is magnesium citrate or oxide better?

Citrate, for supplementation. The NIH classifies citrate among the better-absorbed forms and oxide among the poorly absorbed ones, absorption studies show only a small fraction of an oxide dose reaches the bloodstream. Oxide’s high elemental content makes it look economical, but much of it passes through unabsorbed, often causing loose stools. Oxide earns its place mainly when a short-term laxative effect is actually the goal.

Do Epsom salt baths actually raise magnesium levels?

Probably not meaningfully. Skin is an effective barrier to water-soluble minerals, and studies claiming transdermal magnesium absorption from soaking have been small and poorly controlled, so mainstream medical sources treat the claim as unproven. The relief people feel from an Epsom bath is real, but the warm water and twenty minutes of rest deserve the credit. The same skepticism applies to magnesium sprays and lotions marketed for absorption through skin.

How do I know if I'm low in magnesium?

It’s genuinely hard to know from a standard test, because less than 1 percent of the body’s magnesium is in blood, serum levels can look normal despite low stores. Possible deficiency signs include persistent muscle cramps, twitches, fatigue, numbness, or irregular heartbeat, and risk rises with digestive disorders, type 2 diabetes, heavy alcohol use, and older age. A clinician can weigh your diet, medications, and symptoms together rather than relying on one number.

Should magnesium be taken with food, and does timing matter?

Taking magnesium with a meal reduces the chance of loose stools and stomach upset, especially with citrate or oxide. Time of day matters less than consistency, evidence doesn’t establish that nighttime dosing improves sleep beyond magnesium’s general effects. What does matter is spacing: keep magnesium at least two hours away from other oral medicines, since it can bind some of them in the gut and reduce their absorption.

References

• Magnesium in Diet, MedlinePlus Medical Encyclopedia
• Vitamins and Minerals: Others (including magnesium), NHS

This article is for general information only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice. Please consult a qualified doctor about your individual situation.