“I understand you’re aware that you blacked out today, Clive?” the doctor asked, looking over some papers. I could just imagine him reading my records and them saying some s**t like “beyond all hope.” I hate how in the professional world they talk so condescendingly; they always say crap like, “Unfortunately, you do not fit our criteria.” Just say you don’t like me; I can handle honesty.
“Yes, my roommate told me about it actually,” I replied uncomfortably, shifting in my seat. I swear the chair felt like it was made of stone; it felt terrible no matter where I sat.
“I’ve seen cases of multiple personalities before, but never one where the person blacks out. To be safe, we should prescribe you something,” he replied, trying to smile supportively.
Whatever they put me on will just be
