I wanted to title this post “The Mentally Ill Duo” as that is what mom and I are these days. We are both shaky. I can really tell my medication has run out. Just one more day and I will be back on track. And mom’s mind is a jumble of frets and thoughts of keeping appointments. Dad calls her the appointed one. Well, I told mom I wasn’t feeling well on the phone this morning. She immediately went into panic mode about my and her haircut this afternoon. She is getting her hair done right before me by Rhonda.
“I’ll pick you up at lunch and take you and you can wait on me,” she told me.
The thought of mom driving in her state and then waiting anxiously for mom to get her hair fluffed and highlighted made me cringe.
“I’ll be able to drive,” I reassured her. “I’ll be the one to pick you up at noon.”
Mom thought for a minute, a long minute, and then said, “But what if you can’t make it? I won’t have a way to the beauty salon! I guess I will drive, but your father will kill me if he finds out!”
I assured her it will all work out. “Trust me,” I said. Well, it got more complicated as it often does with mom. Mom is now driving over here very insistently right now to bring me three of her Xanax to take so my nerves will be calm enough to drive and to make it. I just didn’t feel like driving over to get them myself. Dad would die if he knew she was giving me medications not prescribed and that she is driving. C’est le vie! Such is life these days. I probably won’t take the Xanax, but it is going to be hard to resist.
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