I had one of those shaky days today. I was about beside myself when dad arrived tonight with my medications. I wanted to take my Klonopin and go to bed. Dad then proceeded to turn on the TV to PBS. The "3 Tenors" were on singing Christmas tunes and dad cranked up the volume LOUD. I thought my head would explode. "Oh dear God help me," I muttered under my breath.
"I am driving you crazy, aren't I?" dad said, getting a clue.
"Just a tad," I said at my best effort in understatement as I shook my head meaning yes.
I think dad left with his feelings hurt. I feel like a schmuck now. I am going to bed and pray for a better tomorrow. I am tired of this anxiety attack shit. I would sell my soul to an astute doctor who would try to alleviate what is wrong instead of medicating the problem like they all do.