Joyce came over at lunch. I fixed us some ham sandwiches and listened quietly as she talked. She has just struggled so lately. She emphatically replied that she had taken her medications, though.
"My mind seems to spin out of control," she told me. "I lose my grasp on reality."
I kind of felt like her psychiatrist as she talked. Just nodding and saying, "yes" at opportune moments.
I had woken up this morning struggling with my own inner demons. I got it in my head that it would be a good idea to ask Joyce for five bucks. I wanted to go get some Benadryl and sleep my day away not wanting to face it. Joyce's own problems made me feel like a shill for thinking this. Addictions can have such a sway over a rational mind.
Joyce finally left and I felt so guiltily thankful for my own sane mind these days. Unlike Joyce, my medications seem to be working. I get bored and lonesome, but at least I am not struggling with mental illness these days.
They say the powers that be work in mysterious ways. I found a 3mg Risperdal under the cushion of my Lazy Boy on a whimsical search. I took it and hopefully will feel calmer in a few minutes. I took it in the hopes that I will feel anything, but what is normal for me. It is that old addictive personality rearing it's ugly head.