February 22, 2021  

S just took three one milligram Ativan. She said she took 15'ish so far.  
About 10 minutes later at 6:17pm: S just took 3 more Ativan.  
She said she was taking a stoner holiday and, "it's the only way I can function."  
"Please don't take any more."  
"I need to be numb."  
"Don't. I don't want you to take any more. I don't care if you get angry."  
"It's not something I normally do."  
"It lowers your heart rate. I don't want you to fall asleep and not wake up."  
"I'm not killing myself. I don't have weed."  
"I know it wouldn't be intentional, stop."  
A few seconds later she said, "I've taken more Lorazepam to kick my fucking ass all day all at once."  
I was silent.  
She talked about being able to clean her house and her cat. "Kitty is happy I'm not curled up in a little ball like I have been for the last three days," and, " thank you for being concerned, but I'm good. I'm trying to get some Zen perspective and balance."  
"You don't need that many."  
We were silent for a while.  
"Ahh, my friend."  
"Do you need to get going?"  
We bullshitted for a while about nothing.  
I heard something and asked, "are you smoking?"  
"In fucking bed? Are you kidding me?"  
"I actually got this. I'm not as stoned as you think I am. I'm not nearly obliterated."  
I looked at the clock. It's 6:40pm. I feel like we've been talking forever.  
"I feel like I've been on the phone with you forever. It's only been 20 minutes."  
She sang, 'Let's Do the Time Warp.' I'm letting her sing.  
S started talking about her cat some more and, "I feel really blissed out but not tired. I've analyzed how much I can tolerate."  
I heard something and asked, "are you still smoking?"  
"I put it out, trust me."  
S looked up her unemployment payments online. "They didn't pay me today."  
"It's George Washington's birthday. You won't get paid today, I think it's a holiday."  
She's now on Facebook and describing all those stupid memes she loves so much.  
My head hurt. I groaned.  
"I'm looking on L's Facebook page and he has this..."  
What she said is entirely too long and too boring to write. It was stupid. She responded to his post, saying something about Jesus Christ doing something and I stopped paying attention. L is VERY Catholic. S is Pagan. The post wasn't even religious.  
It's 6:55pm and she's still reading stuff from his Facebook page out loud.
I'm going to read this tomorrow. I hate having to write everything down just to remember it later.  
"There is never a dull moment when you have a cat," she just said.  
My head hurts. I don't know what to do. She took so many Ativan, what the fuck.
She just sent me a screenshot from Facebook about survival. I asked her to send it to me. It sounded good, but all I can remember now is, "she rose again" and "she crawled." My head hurts really bad.  
It's 7:00pm. I feel like hours have gone by.  
"He's getting passive aggressive with me on Facebook. I should send him another Jesus quote. It's irritating. You there?"  
"Yeah, yeah. I'm listening, I'm zoning. It's hard to describe."  
My head feels like it's going to explode. I feel like when I started writing stuff down the other day that I know when something needs to be said now.  
S is talking about eating an apple and that she achieved her goal today, she over medicated. Then, "bacon, eggs and pancakes. Fuck yeah." Then, "no blueberries so no pancakes. Whatever."  
"Are you cooking?"  
"Low sodium bacon, baby. I like low sodium bacon, it's tasty."  
"It's ten dollars, it should be tasty."  
I can hear it popping in the pan.  
"Hey, I can make a BLT! Maybe I'll do that. I'm doing that. I'm making a BLT."  
I'm listening to the bacon pop, and I can't really hear what she's saying 'cuz the bacon is distracting me and I'm writing.  
She just said, "their standards" and "okay, I'm back."  
Huh? I'm confused. "Where did you go?"  
"The bathroom. I want a BL mother-fucking T. I'm fine."  
I'm thinking, 'I'm not.'  
It's 7:20pm. I just looked at the clock.  
S just said, "it's a sandwich, you know?"  
"Mm, hmm. How is it?"  
"i don't know yet, I'm slicing the cherry tomatoes. I'm eating a cherry tomato."  
A cherry tomato? On a sandwich? How many? Won't they fall out all over the place?  
As I'm writing I hear, "oh yeah."  
Now I hear gulping.  
"How is it?"  
"I don't know yet, I'm putting the lettuce away."  
I'm thinking, 'what was that?'  
Then I hear, "shit! It's going all over the place! I need a paper towel."  
'Told you so,' I think.  
"This tastes just like a BLT is supposed to taste."  
'Yeah, minus the cherry tomatoes,' I think.  
I can hear her chewing.  
She said "BL mother-fucking T" again and she's slurping it up really loud.  
I wonder, 'who's stoned?' Because suddenly I think it's the other way around.  
"What are you doing?"  
S then said, "I'm eating my BLT," kinda like in the way that she doesn't understand why I'm asking.  
"I haven't had a really good BLT in ages." Then she laughed and said, "I'm officially stoned. Chocolate covered..."  
Still confused, I asked, "what did you just say?"  
"Chocolate covered nanners, I eat them. i need some more of this, of them both."  
I know what she's talking about.  
"Please don't."  
"Don't worry dude, I won't."  
We are silent.  
Then S said, "he's got some pretty big choices right now wouldn't you say? What he put on his Facebook page really pissed me off."  
I'm confused.  
She's back on Facebook. Now she's reading his post and her Jesus Christ response out loud. Again.  
I'm confused.  
Now I hear her walking downstairs to go have a cigarette and she's muttering something about, "how can you post that and be all like, babe I want to see you?"  
I'm still confused.  
She starts talking about how confused she is and I'm thinking, 'no, I'm the only one allowed to be confused here.'  
Now she's walking back upstairs to her apartment again. Very slowly. She's lighting the cigarette in her apartment and coughing. Something doesn't seem right to me.  
"Are you back in your apartment?"  
"No, I'm outside having a cigarette."  
I'm wondering what's happening and I'm listening to her smoke.  
A few minutes later she said, "I'm stoned and loving it. I'm pissed off and I'm not pissed off. You know what I mean?"  
"Mm, hmm."  
I have no idea what she's talking about but now I think I'm stoned somehow.  
"I'm going to clean my house. I feel regenerated. But first I'm going to flop on my couch."  
"You feel regenerated?"  
S said something.  
I'm just writing.  
"I'm going back into my little trance. Sounds pretty solid, hmm?"  
Then I hear her go somewhere. Luckily she still had me on speaker and I can tell she walked away.  
"Where are you?"  
"I'm getting my coffee and..."  
"And what?"  
"And nothing."  
I'm still writing.  
"Damn, that's good coffee.  
I'm writing.  
"I'm not happy with that Facebook comment."  
I can hear her gulping her coffee. Now she's reading that post and response out loud AGAIN.  
"I guess I have no respect with him so what's the fucking point?"  
L is working. He hasn't even responded to her comment.  
My hand hurts from writing so fast. It's 7:50pm.  
I'm thinking, 'that post was some stupid quote about nothing. She had some Jesus response and now it's about him not respecting her and I'm weirded out.'  
"How would you feel about that?"  
"I don't know."  
My head hurts. It's been pounding for days. Now my hand hurts from writing so much.  
She just said something. Now I hear her say, "again" and "two strangers."  
"I'm sorry."  
I hear her keyboard.  
I'm trying to think. I tell myself, 'she will be okay. I'm not okay. I've got to go.'  
"Well, I'm gonna get going. My head's really hurting and I'm gonna let you do your thing."  
She was silent for a few seconds and then said, "okay my friend. You take care. I hope you feel better."  
I said, "thank you," and we did our good-byes.  
Now everything hurts and I'm probably going to be up all night wondering what she's doing or if she's passed out or if she's dead and why I was so selfish and just got off the phone.  
it's 7:57pm.  
Written by Her
Author's Note
I had 22 days of an unrelenting headache last year. Nobody knew until the 23rd day, when I had a lumbar puncture, that I had too much spinal fluid building on my brain. I don't remember anything from...
I had 22 days of an unrelenting headache last year. Nobody knew until the 23rd day, when I had a lumbar puncture, that I had too much spinal fluid building on my brain. I don't remember anything from that time. I wrote this then. I found it when I got home from the hospital.
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