It’s the end of the medicinal month.  When I start to skip days of meds so they last longer because the Dr’s need to review my meds,  it’s just a formality.  It needs to feel right though.   The rare days when it does I can never get an appointment.  

The last few times I’ve managed to fudge them into prescribing over the phone after assuring them I won’t top myself and my husband won’t sue them. 

I’m not fine.

Or okay.

I’m also not ready to talk.

I’m just. …

Existing, I suppose.

Which is about as good as it gets.

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