Pistols At Dawn

“How much sleep are you getting?” My psychiatrist says, his fountain pen an angry hornet hovering above the paper about to strike.
“Loads,” I say, as I realise where he’s going with this. “About six hours at night,” adding a couple of hours on to the four I’m managing ATM, “a couple of hours in the afternoon,” I plough on, and I’m not even managing my afternoon sleep ATM, and I must be smiling or something or…
“Energy levels gone up?” He asks.
Argh UP the word I can’t hear can’t hear can’t hear.
“No got no energy never got any energy can’t move can’t…”
“Really?” He raises an eyebrow, scratches something on his pad. “You seem to be wriggling about in your chair. More irritable than usual?”
“I don’t get irritable. I am completely calm and relaxed,” I say, sitting on my hands and trying to stop tapping my foot and pushing my coffee cup into a hole in the table and…”and…oh ok I know where you’re going with this. Shall I put my antidepressant down to thirty?”
“Yes,” he says. “Shall we invite Mum in?”
I wander out in the corridor and I don’t know where I am or which way it is and I can’t remember and why can’t anything just be nice. I was enjoying myself. Why can’t I go on the radio without my mood going up and there’s mum.
“I’m in a bit of trouble I have to put my duloxetine down I have to stay with you…um… which way is it which room did I come out of.”
“I don’t know darling,” mum says and she sports that bomb-is-about-to-explode look that she wears when around me when my mood goes up and I feel sad for her – What did she do to deserve all this – and I push a door and another door and it’s not any of them and pace around a bit and try another door and then we’re in and Dr Stein throws mum a sympathetic look and anyway the upshot is that am now under parental house arrest and definitely no dates this weekend.

Had better be OK to see the Iceman next week though. Felt calmer at parentals last night and if can just get some sleep and rest and no dates will maybe be ok. No-one said Mental Hospital – shall we say pistols at dawn? you can say it but I don’t know what it means – “love and death” I think.

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