GETTING AN ADULT INTO THE MIX

The first pill is invariably swallowed by the second and the third and there is always a crisis,an exam,a special study session and not enough minutes in the day.you need that little pick me up,oh come on get that monkey off my back,it’s no big deal everyone is doing It. From that point the leap to the I am not getting addicted,I can stop anytime is a small one.

At one moment around here when the post high depression kicks in like a malevolent cloud and fuzzes the brain there is a passing doing that romping in the Valley of the dolls.

 the dolls isn’t all that benign an excursion. It has got consequences.

What one can do in this phase is seen the shelter of a friend in the same boat.if that is too in your face then take an afternoon off,latch the door and begin floundering through the search engine forest looking for key words,cold comfort and sanctuary. The bleak scenarios are easily dismissed it isn’t as if you are hooked,you are just checking out of curiosity,get a feel of what it is all about. Days of this diet and you are ready to drop it in total except for that niggling doubt. Why does everyone say there is a change in your behaviour. You are quiet, snappy, withdrawn put on weight ,lost weight, stressed, what’s up.

That you can handle. Shrug it off. Slip into denial and be jovial even if that is the last thing you feel. Then your parents get into the  act. Those painful ‘beta’ strewn inquiries while you struggle to control your impatience, get off my damn case, this is a crazy workload ,if you were loaded with half of it you would go crazy, yes, I am eating okay, no not pizzas, yes I promise, yes, got to go now, love you, phew.

Then you feel bad because you made them feel bad and you didn’t want them to feel so but they can truly get on your nerves with their questions.

Maybe in a saner world we would respect the ‘respect’ our parents are giving us and the space and how do we tell them that inside we are hurting. Easier to be gruff and waspish.

One day comes the reckoning. No great revelation because the need that you don’t believe you have is superseded the unavailability of the pills. It is not as if they are mints that you can buy at the drugstore, the stuff, contrary to popular opinion, is not that openly on sale. And it costs, no is peddling out of love. It is a hardcore business.

So back to chasing digital breadcrumbs on the Internet and checking out how to get a prescription. They lead straight to the office of the university psychologist and you think, okay, let’s do it, get a proper medical assessment of things as they are not as they should be., May be I need the counselling, perhaps if I get an adult into the mix this endless dizziness in the head will stop.

You make the appointment for next Monday because they are heap busy, not easy to give a whole hour, five days to go and the little box on the table has only two blue pills left.

Guess will have to make do.

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