Drugged. Everything I do is drugged. My movements. My thoughts. These words. All drugged.
I am dowsed in honey.
And maybe this would've been something I yearned for. Maybe this would've been something I'd drive distances to find. Meet with people I've never met. Exchange green paper for substances in plastic bags. Maybe there was a time as such.
But not now. It's not so now.
But it's currently expected of me. It's what was assigned to me by a man of medical stature. A man who seemingly knows what he is doing. Knows what's best.
I can't function. I waver between two different planes. Uncontrollably. I toggle back and forth sporadically. I can't stay grounded.
This is awful.
I wonder if the cats suspect anything.