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400 pages, Hardcover
First published October 11, 2016
CATHERINE PULASKI–CELEXA 40 mg, CATHERINE PULASKI–PROZAC 20 mg, CATHERINE PULASKI–ABILIFY 10 mg, PAXIL, ZOLOFT and LEXAPRO -- my stockpile of old prescriptions. By day, they're stationed in a box under my bed, camouflaged under old ballet shoes, unopened packages of tights and crumpled recital flyers. But every night, I take them out. They soothe me.
I'm sick of the hiding, and I'm sick of constantly anticipating Zero. He went away for a while, but I know he's back, circling ever closer. And now one of Zero's four horsemen, disrupted sleep, is here. But I don't say any of this.
"Things are okay," I answer.
I am so fucked. By a disease that isolates me with its stigma. That not only taints my reasoning but also limits any relationship that I could have.