Since my panic attack, I’ve been very careful to take my clonazepam (generic for Klonopin). It helps keep me stable throughout the day and able to function. It helps me to sit and relax. I find that it helps me face the challenges of the day. There are simple challenges like washing the dishes, and there are mountainous ones like parking lots.

Last night I went to the theater, and on two separate occasions, I had to force myself to stay in my seat. If I hadn’t taken 0.5 mg of clonazepam in the afternoon, I’m certain I would have left. The anxiety and agitation would have been too much to handle. I’m glad I stayed, because I enjoyed the performance.

It was the drive home that produced the surprise. I was concentrating on the road in the dark, and my dead friend’s voice very clearly said, “I was sad there was no Shakespeare.” I took it in stride and thought to myself or to the voice, “You really would like to have seen a good soliloquy, wouldn’t you?” “Yes, I would,” came the instant reply again in my dead friend’s voice. I cut off the conversation and finished the drive home.

That night in my room, my head was full of sound. Actually, it was full of show tunes. “Getting to Know You” from The King and I ran over and over. I couldn’t make it quit.

Today, lying in bed to take a nap, I heard whispers.

My head is not my own. I feel broken.