"What's wrong?" dad asked worriedly with a tone of exasperation.
It really hit me late this afternoon well after my noon medications. I could've just died for a six pack of ice beer to soothe what ails me. This is why I drank for all those years.
"My mind is racing like crazy and I can't settle down," I told him woefully. "I usually can sit in my lazy boy and look out the window for an hour or more, but I can't do that today. I can't even listen to my cherished music."
"I'll take care of it," Old Fuss and Feathers replied. "What do you want to eat tonight?"
"Just a hamburger and a large Coke would be nice," I told my father meekly -- hoping not to trouble him too much.
"I'll get it on the way home," he said. "I'll see you about eight."
It's a disconcerting feeling when your mind races and you feel as if you are going to jump out of your skin. I hate days like this and wish I could just go to sleep until I feel better. Alas, my mind won't slow down enough for a nap. I just took my nighttime meds and hope to feel a little better soon. Maybe that Klonopin will slow my mind down.
(The nighttime medications did the trick. I feel much calmer and my mind is slowing down.)
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