I broke down in my shower this morning feeling overwhelmed. "I don't think I can take all this shit today," I muttered. I wanted just a quiet day at home with my Internet and my TV.
Soon dad arrived to pick me up. I brushed my hair and put on my favorite San Diego Chargers ball cap.
"You look and smell nice today," dad said as he handed me two of my Clonazepam. "This won't take long."
We arrived at the hospital and dad immediately went into social gregarious mode. Talking to everyone he saw. I quietly sat in a back chair of the lobby shying away from all the small talk. "I wish mom would have taken me," I said at one point to myself.
We waited an hour to be called back for our blood work. "Thank you," I prayed to the gods that be that this ordeal was about over.
"You okay?" dad asked.
"Overwhelmed," I said. "Too much stimulus."
Dad held my hand to calm me. I was on the edge of a massive anxiety attack.
I am still so fragile these days. Dad says mom and I are both in such a way. We can't take all the social aspects that come when doing something with my father. Dad reminds me of a politician.
I was so glad to get home. I immediately curled up in the bed with Maggie and nervously smoked cigarette after cigarette. Dad called me a moment later and said, "All burdens weren't lifted on Calgary." His favorite catch phrase about how mom and I couldn't even handle such things with divine intervention.