Full Body Chills


Today that the worms finally came. I wasn't surprised. I'm telling everyone. Therapist my psychiatrist, my mom anyone who could listen really. I'd been telling them about it for years and not a single one of them understood or believed. And all of the pills and talk therapy and doctors and their E C T. in the world can't change my mind. I'm dead. I'm absolutely sure of it. I had an always known. The idea trickled in and out at first. There will always clues but the moment I paid too much attention to it. The thought disappeared. The fact that I wasn't alive anymore hadn't been apparent until I was in my early twenties. I had my temperature checked at the doctor's Office for a checkup before yet another psychiatric referral. They'd been the scale I and of course I'd have been underweight. I was always underweight. But last month I had dropped ten pounds that had been my mom's biggest worry and my old psychiatrists and it seem nearly as concerned. So there we were. Jumping through insurance hoops to find another person to give me my new drugs, new words and ignore the things I said. The nurse gave me a weird look and muttered She started shaking her thermometer a bit and frown. This thermometers glitzy. We'll be back with another she said. As soon as she left the room I had hopped from my spot on the paper covered exam table and grab that their monitor. She had left it alone upon the counter. The disposable plastic sheets still around it's metal tip. I popped it back in my mouth and then read the results. Ninety four, point six. It isn't broken. The DOT I tickled silje rubbing

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