The Pre-injection Blues...

lots of crazy meds

I had called my father earlier telling him about my old high school English teacher praising my writing abilities on Facebook. He is a stern man of few words and It thrilled me to death. Things were fine until my mental illness hit me like a ton of bricks a few hours after we talked on the phone. I then called my father back complaining about feeling weird and looking and feeling disheveled.

"It is because your injection is tomorrow," he told me blithely and matter-of-factly. "Your medication is running out."

Show some kindness Papa...

You could tell very well that my father didn't want to fool with me at all this afternoon and he very abruptly got off the phone.

"I'll be over in ten minutes to give you your medications," he told me abruptly and gruffly. "I've got lots of errands to run this afternoon."