![]() She likes to say things like that-that sugar is poison-right as you are trying to enjoy a slice of cake or something. Mom says sugar is poison, which I think is a bit of an overstatement. Mom keeps things like Toaster Strudels in the house now because Eric likes them. ![]() I think about staying in bed for the rest of the day, but then I think about coffee and whether there are any Toaster Strudels in the freezer. ![]() They just think, I’m not going to worry about this right now, and the worry sits obediently in the corner of their mind on time-out. Regular people can do it without the pill. A pill helps push the worry to the back of my mind. Usually it takes a while to work up the courage to leave my room-slash-cell. The fear of interacting with the people in my own house makes my room solitary confinement, though not literally, because my room includes a forty-two-inch television and a PlayStation, which I’m pretty sure inmates don’t get in prison. I try not to interact with other people because interacting with people makes me question who I am and if I’m wrong to be that person. When I wake, the house feels empty, so I think it’s safe to get out of bed. ![]()
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