Chemical imbalance

She cheerfully headed towards the restaurant. She was just about to enter when she felt a haze over her head and saw herself lead to sitting as a bag woman on the side of the street. Her anger started to flair. she was not giving up her dream for her future. She fought against the force and entered the restaurant. She sat down at the booth and cried. The force that had seemed to invade her was gone. She wondered for a moment about the advice she had given other people. That force had been trying to control her body movements. Maybe the voices in that lady's head were not just her internal thoughts. Maybe it was not just as easy, as lessening her dependence on the voices, having her make other friends, and improving the quality of her life, giving her more control over it.

The waitress came over and took her order. She couldn't even think so went on autopilot and ordered a hamburger and fries and her trusty diet Pepsi. When she left the restaurant, she felt exhausted but normal.

She had a temp job tomorrow, imagine that it was in a psych. hospital. She was glad it was the overnight shift. When she arrived the next evening at work, she reported to her co-workers and went to talk to the patients. None of the patients had conditions that were as weird as what had happened to her the previous night. They always seemed friendly and normal. She thought this must be them on medication. Plus all she knew is what they shared with her. She didn't know what was going on in their mind. Yet she knew some of the doctors concluded that they could diagnose a patient after talking to them for ten minutes. She avoided the doctors when she did these temp jobs. Not that they were in the ward much. After all, they only needed to get to know their patients for ten minutes before they knew what made them tick. Personally, she thought the doctors were crazier than the patients. Tonight she was hoping that someone would relate an experience similar to hers. But the conversation was about tv stars.

The night was just a battle to stay awake. She had the flashlight duty. The other worker sat silently behind the desk. No food at work. The break was a choice between food and sleep.

She was home, she fell down on her mattress and slept. Her next job had been canceled. The lawyers' plans had changed. She assumed their case had settled. Her planned 3-hour nap turned into an eight-hour slumber.

That afternoon she went down to Central Square and telephoned strangers. Some of the people actually answered the phone and talked with her. Most of her calls were to the southwest. The time zone and all that. Work was fun, she knew most of the other callers. Unlike the job the other night. And no she did not threaten to sue when one of her co-workers gave her a back massage. He was not making sexual advances. She was relieved that none of the surveys covered that topic. Personally, she was sick of hearing about it.

After work she went to the piano bar. She listened to music, performed a few songs, and drank diet Pepsi. Life seemed to be returning to normal.