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299 pages, Hardcover
First published August 16, 2011
Even with smart treatment, there’s no magic formula for successful treatment of schizophrenia. I’d read about a medication called Clozaril, but Dr. Taylor wanted to try that only as a last resort. “There are so many other medications that could work,” he said, “and I’d rather start with those."
I glanced over at Ben; he was smirking. Smirking! He was looking at me like I was a lunatic, and he was the calm one. The superior one, tolerating my unreasonable mood, and just barely. It was all too much. All the months of patience, of waiting for him to come to his senses, of excusing his behaviors, came barreling in. My right hand reached across and slapped him. On the cheek. Hard. How did that happen? “Stop it!” I shouted. “What is wrong with you?”
Ben was stunned. He put his own hand to his reddened cheek and stared at me.
“You bitch!” he yelled. “You hit me. You hit me! You’re crazy, you are fucking crazy!”
And my right hand hit him again. I was nearing a red light and stopped the car, but I could not stop my hand. This time the slap landed closer to his eye. “You earned it!” I heard myself scream. “How dare you call me that?”