I am soooo tired.
Every night, before going to bed, I now have to take a tablet. It always has to be taken at night. Right. Before. Bed.
Why do tablet manufacturers do this to me?
Taking tablets, for me, is hard enough. It requires memory. And if I don’t feel the symptoms, I forget I have the disorder. Omit to take the tablet. Then stride back into the symptoms again.
And so I go on.
But now it seems I’m becoming even worse. Now I have to take this tiny, effective, wonderful little tablet. But at bed time.
Just so you understand: I have trouble finding my way to bed at night-time. I have to concentrate hard to remember to brush my teeth. I only know I have to go to the toilet because of the forceful pressure my body exerts between my legs.
And now I am required to remember to take a tiny little pill.
But there’s an additional problem.
I keep picking up the wrong box of tablets in my bleary-eyed state.
I keep picking up my sons box of Ritalin.
I guess, I obsess all day about not forgetting to give him his tablets twice daily.
But at night-time, I hit the kitchen and find myself often standing with a box of Ritalin in my hand.
Shocked and somewhat more awake, I return it to its space on the shelf and find my own box of meds.
Which, for the record, is a completely different colour.
I have tried changing the place the Ritalin lives. No improvement.
Writing, ‘These are your tablets, Sarsm!” on my box.
To no avail.
Sticking a big, pointy arrow on the wall, alluding to the correct medication I should take.
But still, the box winds up, sneakily, in my hand.
I am actually starting to wonder, if somewhere, deep in my psyche, I just have the urge to feel…