The doctor said I could...

 

I wake up every morning, I grab a bottle of wine with only a third in it from the night before. I grab my adidas athletic bag full of prescription pills as I sit on the edge of my bed. Firstly, I take the opiate painkillers I’ve been addicted to for 14 years. After that I take a 85mg amphetamine pill. As to give me energy through the day. Next I take a blood pressure medication, and then an alpha blocker as to elevate my blood pressure from the opiates and amphetamines. After that I take an anti psychotic called xyprexa. Naturally to stop, my racing thoughts, and deep rooted hatred for life from bubbling to the surface. I take my anti-depressant. Everyone is on those? Not really worth describing. And Then I take a benzodiazapine anxiolitic to stop the cacophony of adverse symptoms from hitting my consciousness like a cannon charge slamming into a war-torn building or vehicle some where in Syria or Ukraine. My muscle memory has become attuned to the subsequent careful shaking of a pill bottle into my hand. The monumental effort to get it to my mouth, and the popping sound from the catapulting effect of pills being launched into my gullet. I finish the bottle of wine, and wait for the flood of describable feelings to come over me. As I sit on the edge of my bed, I remember I have a lot to do on this day. This 24 hour cycle of life. On this hell-scape we call earth. I decide to take an amphetamine pill and crush it down, as to insuffulate it. And give me a morning boost, before the boot of pharmaceutical control comes crushing down. Resting on my neck. I do the deed, which brings me negative feelings. Because the pill bottle says to swallow, and the doctor never once implied it’s okay to snort when you have a lot to do. The next thing I do, is go in to the bathroom and take a shower. Which is not a pleasant experience. I live in a barely inhabitable apartment, without a water softener. The water leaves the tap, with an almost oily consistency. Full of minerals, and waste for all I know. The smell of death permeates through the bathroom. At this point I’m used to it. The stench hangs on to the fabric of my curtains. My star wars comforter, haphazardly thrown across my bed. I exit the shower, and grab my Versace undershirt. I saved for 3 months to buy. I put on my Calvin Klein underwear, of which I only have to pairs left. Who’s got time to change underwear? By this point, there’s a ringing in my ears. I grab the keys to my Prius, lying on a shelf covered in funko pop dolls. My recycling bin full of card board and plastic nestled safely underneath. I leave through the front door and get into my Prius. Which is filled completely with Wendy's and olive garden containers. I only eat Olive garden when I get paid, which is on tues days from my full time job at wal mart, and Fridays at McDonalds. Neither jobs pay my bills completely, after my co-pay on weekly doctors appointments for my medicine. I need my medicine though. Sometimes, I get out of my routine, and buy things on amazon. There isn’t a whole lot of things that make me happy, accept seeing a porch full of amazon packages when I can afford it. Most of the time I can’t, so when the urge consumes me, and I fill my shopping cart full with funko pops and iPhone accessories. I have to door dash in my 2 hours of free time I have every evening. It’s okay though, that’s only 2 days most of the time. Except when things get hard. I sperg out and sometimes have to do it 4 times a week. So anyway, after going through the motions at both of my full time jobs, I get home at about 11pm and settle in to watch an episode of my favorite program on my favorite children’s show streaming service. By this time, I’m already through an entire bottle of wine, onto my next. Today, my boss at Wal-Mart screamed at me because I was listening to k-pop through my air pods, and he decided that wasn’t ok for me to be doing while I stocked Italian bread on the shelf. Marked at $4.00 a loaf. I felt so bad about it, I took one extra pain killer at work, after all. It says take 4-6 3 times a day. I still had 6 I could play with. When I got home, my house had been broken into. And I guess I’d just had it. I took the other 5, after all the doctor said I could...