Just a Little Sugar

Coconut and a little bit of everything

Mark did feel a little bit uncomfortable telling Sugar about his condition. A condition he didn't even completely understand himself.
The only people who truly understood the scale of his condition were Richard and Sheila. Even his father couldn't even grasp the concept of it.

Mark had seen 7 doctors in three countries before he decided he didn't want to be used as an experiment anymore.
He'd been diagnosed with ADHD when he was 12, clinical depression when he was 13, anxiety when he was 15, schizophrenia when he was 17, bipolar disorder when her was 21, one doctor even told him he was faking.  Like anyone would want to fake being a crazy person.

His father believed the doctor for a while until his mother left and he began to see that Mark wasn't faking.
Then he said it was the weed that was making Mark crazy.

He had been to rehabilitation centers where they pumped him with meds until he was numb, churches and prayer houses where they used the Bible to 'flog the evil spirits out of him', hospitals where they poked and prodded him till he had no free vein on his right arm and some weird green life facility in the US that required him to meditate for two hours a day, to only eat what he had planted, and to sit on the grass, sleep on grass because he was reacting to man made things. He'd been at the green life camp until Sheila had threatened to divorce his dad if he wasn't pulled out of there.

Nothing made Mark more insecure than the thought that he was not normal, or that there were 'evil spirits' in him. And if he was being honest to himself, he never dated anyone for more than a week because then they would get to see his manic side. And that would either send them running in the opposite direction or give them some sort of saviour complex. The 'I-can-fix-you' complex.

His present doctor just concluded that he had a weird complex mixture of the conditions he had been previously diagnosed with and Mark was okay with that.
She wasn't trying to find out what exactly he had. He was almost 25 and tired of that. She was focusing on managing it better. That was exactly what Mark needed now. Management. And he was doing better now that he had in a long while

Why was he then staring at the salt and pepper packets that he'd just arranged by colour.
Sugar was waiting for an answer, he knew that, it hadn't been a deep questions. "Why do you keep doing that?" she had asked referring to the fact that his hands were just moving on their own. Arranging the packets.

White ones before red ones. Salt before pepper.

It was like his brain couldn't stop singing it to him. But he couldn't tell her that now could he?

Sugar chuckled again little bit. Had he been silent for that long?

He didn't know to say. Hi I'm Mark. I really like you but sometimes my head does crazy stuff and my body follows suit. But hey how about a second date Ehn?

"Mark." Sugar called him, "What's going on?"

Mark still didn't reply.

"Forget I asked." Sugar said, "Let's just order" Sugar said and looked at the menu on the table. "What do you usually get when you're here? "

Mark heaved a sigh of relief. Was she angelic?
"The Yamarita. Or the plantain fritata." he recited,"or both. You can get the plantains; fried, the omlete, the pancakes and waffles. Get everything. "

They were at his favorite types of restaurant. The type that served breakfast all day.

"Mark" Sugar called

"I don't mind" Mark said. The fried chicken here is very good too. I... "

"Mark. This, the rambling, is cute. But I know there's something wrong that isn't on the menu. So please, talk to me" Sugar pleaded.