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Chapter 13

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I went to see my doctor a few hours after waking up at Pete’s flat. I didn’t want to go, but all the signs of toxicity were there, nausea, diarrhoea, tremors. Dr Katz had been treating me for years, although to date it had been little more than a maintenance job. He took my blood, checked my lithium levels and warned me that binge drinking on my dosage of medication was incredibly foolish. We talked about my condition. I explained that I had not had any manic or depressive episodes in a while. I considered my bipolar to be under control although my blackout hinted that it was still hiding in the shadows. Dr Katz confirmed it always would be.

I didn’t go back into the office until Thursday, until I physically felt human again. I used the time to finish my QC application form – the closing date was hours away – and I welcomed the distraction. I even phoned my mother and enjoyed her banal chit-chat about the woman in the post office and the price of potatoes in the Co-op, conversation I once found dull and alien, but which now seemed like a comforting fairy tale about a world I wished I could fall back into. The rest of the time, I slept. I slept and I read and dug out a self-help book that had once been useful. This too shall pass.

Mine: The hot new thriller of 2018 - sinister, gripping and dark with a breathtaking twist

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