I am learning not to overreact when my temper rises.
I am also teaching myself not to sp-speak too quickly when my heart suffers that minor infarction issue again.
I enclosed Mr. ADD in an airtight box and buried him in the confines of my desk drawer. I can still hear him rapping his knuckles on the lid to be let out.
The panic attacks are slowly deviating from existence. The insomnia, not so much. Oh, and the doctor came around today with a cheerful smile and a fresh bottle of expectorants.
I flushed the brown liquid down the bathroom sink after he left.
Overtime, I have made myself learn the fine and subtle art of saying what needs to be said boldly, with no pressure. However, I don’t want to be misconstrued as being a brash Neanderthal so I cover up by peppering my words with civil empathy.
Although, the greatest self-control I give myself is pleasantly rejecting a tall glass of beer for a cup of water. The last time I didn’t, it had cost me a scarred neck and a shattered collarbone.
The mangled car had no insurance and I still owe my father half a million for auto-damages.
Contributor’s Bio
Tolu Dara is a creative writer and a content creator based in Lagos, Nigeria. She has an imagistic flair for the good art that photography has to offer and is an aspiring Medicine and Surgery student. She currently works as a care attendant in a growing children’s institution and hopes to give back to society in a philanthropic manner.