"Mom, I am not doing well," I said after she picked up the phone. "Should I call the paramedics?"
"I feel mentally strange. My mind feels busy and I can't concentrate on anything. I can't lie down. I can only write and use the computer," I replied.
"I am sorry to hear that."
"Talk to Dad about me staying with y'all tonight. Please? Let me sleep in Mary Emily's bedroom. I will go to sleep around nine and I promise to be quiet. I just want to be with my family. I am scared and lonely. I don't feel well at all."
"I will talk to him," she said. "You want me to bring you some Benadryl?"
"Please and I forgot to get last night's dosage," I replied. "Tell dad to give you that as well."
You are not going to drive this time of night, I could hear my father scold my mother over the phone. You will have a wreck.
"Your father will be there soon," my mother said.
I hung up the phone. I don't have high hopes of my father appearing anytime soon. I have cried the proverbial wolf too many times in my mentally ill states for them to think of this as nothing more than just some melodrama I am dreaming up. I need help and don't know how to get it. Maybe I do need to call the paramedics, but I don't feel as crazy as I can sometimes be. I am in that strange twilight zone not knowing what to do. I fear I will act too normal for the paramedics and I am afraid of the costs. I also can't bear to be without my cigarillos right now and a hospital visit would preclude them.