20
I lay in bed, waiting to hear voices. My psychiatrist has asked me if I have heard voices, and told me if I do I’m to ignore them, so hearing voices must be a possibility. I’m nineteen, and new to anxiety, panic attacks, and everything implicit. I don’t know what I’m facing. I don’t know what might come. I don’t know anything, so a mental health professional is logically my guide. I’ve never been so conscious of my thoughts. Like everybody, I think about what I might have to do, but only inasmuch as how it connects to do what I need to do in the world around me –…
The Other Me
‘Pharmaceutical Daze’ iii. Pat was a couple years older than me, a big guy – about 6’4 – and over a hundred kilos. He’d been in a car accident that had led to some mental problems – although I’m not sure how that had happened, whether it was a physical injury or what. Another of Roo’s friends, Aaron, told me that the accident was a trigger. Most of the time Pat was okay, and we’d go over to his place and watch movies or wrestling or something like that, whatever medicine he was taking taming his demons and keeping them at bay. He was typically a garrulous, good-humoured guy. But…