“Can go downstairs right now and let my mom know how I’m feeling – if she’s even home – but she’ll tell me to help myself to the Advil in her purse and that I need to relax and stop getting myself worked up, because in this house there’s no such thing as being sick unless you can measure it with a thermometer under the tongue. Things fall into categories of black and white – bad mood, bad temper, loses control, feels sad, feels blue.”
