The basket of drugs fell out of my hands, muffled as it crashed by the carpet in the pharmacy. My head jutted upwards, eyes opening widely--I had nodded out again. I bent down to pick up the bottles of medication, placing them back into the black basket.
Embarrassment could have flushed my cheeks, but I was too overcome by the stream of morphine from last night and this morning, plus the xanax as well, flooding my body. My emotions were absent, my mind far from the current situation--I can't remember any thoughts, fear.
My pharmacist was far too busy trying to control the mess in front of her; she's constantly overwhelmed by her own incompetency. L was at the register, in an area separated from the back of the pharmacy by a wall. I was on my own.
I finished putting every bottle carefully back up on the shelf and returned to the computer to type up prescriptions.
Again, I felt my neck snap forward and rattle me awake.
I was running out of control--and no one knew it. The customers weren't flooding in front of me, so I quickly ran to the back. Telling my coworkers I had to take my meds, as I quickly departed. I popped the top off my adderall bottle, and tossed it in the back of my throat with some water. If I had been more present, I would've thanked whoever created those tiny little gel caps for saving my ass.
Now the fear had started to set in, hard and fast, running down my spine and across my face. Back in the pharmacy, I made sure to keep awake and upright. I imagined I could only fall asleep twice standing up before someone noticed--not that anyone I worked with would've put the two together. At least, I don't think so--although my prescribed medications are known to my coworkers, so easy enough to chock it up to them and lack of sleep.
Hours later, I am ready to bang my head into the wall, so frustrated and out of control with no where to send these emotions. The kratom and morphine and 1 oxy, plus some xanax, is not helping me cope with myself and the knot in my stomach is growing unruly.
I just keep spinning out further each day and I don't know what I'll hit before I stop.
My pharmacist was far too busy trying to control the mess in front of her; she's constantly overwhelmed by her own incompetency. L was at the register, in an area separated from the back of the pharmacy by a wall. I was on my own.
I finished putting every bottle carefully back up on the shelf and returned to the computer to type up prescriptions.
Again, I felt my neck snap forward and rattle me awake.
I was running out of control--and no one knew it. The customers weren't flooding in front of me, so I quickly ran to the back. Telling my coworkers I had to take my meds, as I quickly departed. I popped the top off my adderall bottle, and tossed it in the back of my throat with some water. If I had been more present, I would've thanked whoever created those tiny little gel caps for saving my ass.
Now the fear had started to set in, hard and fast, running down my spine and across my face. Back in the pharmacy, I made sure to keep awake and upright. I imagined I could only fall asleep twice standing up before someone noticed--not that anyone I worked with would've put the two together. At least, I don't think so--although my prescribed medications are known to my coworkers, so easy enough to chock it up to them and lack of sleep.
Hours later, I am ready to bang my head into the wall, so frustrated and out of control with no where to send these emotions. The kratom and morphine and 1 oxy, plus some xanax, is not helping me cope with myself and the knot in my stomach is growing unruly.
I just keep spinning out further each day and I don't know what I'll hit before I stop.
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