I’m trying so hard to just wait this out and stay calm. I go from terror at the thought of the whole ordeal to excitement that this hell could end. Wouldn’t that be a pip? Everyone at work thinks I’m going into rehab. How insane is that? Less stigma to be a crack addict than a [tag]mental patient[/tag].
Maybe I’m a chicken for not “coming out” and going public with the [tag]electroconvulsive therapy[/tag]. But it’s an embarrassment to admit you can’t control your head. I’d rather coworkers think I shoot smack than have bad brain chemistry. Is that a screwed up world or what?
I’m sure the gossip whores at workÂ are chattering right now, trying to decide what drug of choice Ashley uses. Is it crack, heroin? Alcohol? I’ll never tell. I hate everyone I work with anyway. They drink sweet tea ofÂ course. Oh god, I hope this sweet tea thing doesn’t follow me to the psych hospital. Do you think the nurses will know I’m a foreigner when I say hold the sugar? Jebus, what will I do? The thought of trying to drink sweet tea in the midst of all this is too much to bear. I have to have unsugared tea or I will die.