I took a Seroquel yesterday so that I could sleep away the dark thoughts in my head. I woke up 10 hours later to the phone ringing. I didn’t answer in time, so I quickly messaged K. ” I’m fine. I just took a Seroquel and overslept.”

” Your poor cats. Poor Tabby.”

“Everyone’s fine,” I assured her. It was only then that she asked me why I took the Seroquel. “I got into a fight online. It was no big deal. I couldn’t find my Ativan, so I took a Seroquel.”

She didn’t ask for me to elaborate and I didn’t bother. Why elaborate when she would just think that I’m an idiot and she doesn’t actually care anyway?

Whenever I’m confronted with the fact that no one actually likes me I start getting weird, and her reaction to me, worrying about the cats and then remembering herself, only underscores what I mean.