And I wouldn’t trade her for anything in this whole wide world. You don’t know how lucky I have been to find someone who is uncannily like me and understands our mental illnesses and our most profound and stymie inducing peculiarities.
Lori was scolding me pretty harshly tonight in that she always has to drive to see me and I never drive down to Auburn to spend the night with her.
“I quite honestly can’t afford the gas, sweetheart,” I sheepishly, but honestly told her, and then I apologized for not coming more.
“You can’t squeeze blood out of a turnip,” I then told her callously with a half chuckle met by her not amused harrumph.
The Medication Ritual Has Beckoned And I Answered and Met its Call…
You know I am also pretty lucky as well to have a father who comes over every night to administer my crazy medications. I used to think it was just one more way he could control me and now I do know he just cares. I’m just one of his progeny who he tries to help and support and he has many times done this for my brother and sister as well. He often tells me that with my medications I can live a somewhat normal existence. We do have mental illness hiccups from time to time, though.