Whispers In The Dark

Robin

Robin

I took my pills, again, when I got home. My mom forced them on me, afraid that I would hide them if she waited until it was late and she was tired. It was the first time that I had taken two of my doses in a day in over two weeks.

The medication made me feel numb. My doctor said it was a normal side effect, and that it was likely to go away after a while, but I guess I just didn't take it enough for my body to adapt.

It should have been awfully embarrassing at the time to be force-fed my pills for Schizophrenia on the first day of school in front of the school psychiatrist, my counselor, and the assistant principal, but the embarrassment of it didn't really hit me until I was walking home, when the numbness began to fade and I could think straight again. I hated myself for blushing and was grateful that no one else was around, just speeding cars and the wind.

The good thing about the pills was that they kept the hallucinations away, for the most part, and they turned down the voices to the point where I could barely hear them. It was nice. I just didn't like not being able to feel most things or think straight. My thoughts felt heavy and it was like my body was stuffed with cotton, sucking up anything I felt.

The other benefit of taking the pills was that I slept better than I ever did when I was avoiding taking them. I slept soundly until the medication began to wear off around four in the morning. For once, I didn't hesitate to stumble into the bathroom and swallow two pills willingly. They kicked in within a few minutes and then I was sleeping again, burrowed under the blankets, hugging my pillow and thinking that if I wasn't so cotton-stuffed, I would probably feel really, really content.