4mg of clonozepam please. root beer chaser.

It doesn't feel like my mind softens, exactly. That's what it's supposed to, to e a muscle relaxant for the mind. To ease the edges, to smoothe things down.

As I walk around though, smells are more detailed. The cars zipping by seem full of people on their way to places. I'm on my way to places.

I wander the aisles of stores, never finding exactly what I'm lookng for. I found incense though, and it is lovely. Smells set a theme, a context for calm.

I've had problems lately - call them memory associations. A song or a phase in a commercial or the sight of a car bring unpleasant things roaring back, filling my mind. Lately I imagine blasting them to pieces with hight powered weapons, shattering into millions of pieces. But the pills help, too. They distrct me from the self-loathing to walk to the grocery, in futile pursuits. I come home with diet root beer and wooden spoons and multi-vitamin.

It's not what the pros would call coping. But with a full bottle of pills and thirt sticks of incenes, I think i'll survive.