Shopping was not something Melvin enjoyed. All the people and motion could overwhelm him and really get his hallucinations going which in turn would set off his panic attacks. On more than one occasion he’d found himself standing in the middle of an aisle, tears streaming down his face, and no idea how long he’d been standing there. However, Dr Scala had prescribed him some medications to help with all of that so going to the store to pick them up was mandatory. At least, Melvin was pretty sure she’d prescribed him some medications. There was a note about it on his phone.

Chuck must have handled that part of the conversation which surprised Melvin since it was Chuck that resisted medications most vehemently, distrusting anything that altered their mental state. It was a testament to how bad things had gotten that Chuck was willing to make this concession.

Standing in the line for the pharmacy, Melvin distracted himself by reading the labels on the medications that were on the shelves beside him. Distantly he could hear sounds that he knew weren’t real and he did his best to ignore them. As long as he didn’t focus on them, they’d be more likely to stay distant. In his periphery he could see motion that was likewise not real.

“Next,” the pharmacist finally said and Melvin moved up to the counter.

“Here to pick up,” he said, unsure of what exactly the protocol here was since he’d never needed to do this before.

The pharmacist asked for his name, birth date, and insurance information before grabbing a couple of prescriptions.

“Your copay is twenty dollars,” they said.

He paid it and then stuffed the prescriptions into his pocket. The hallucinations were getting worse so he hurried out of the store and got into his car where he sat for a moment, eyes shut and forcing himself to breathe slowly. The screaming had only just started as Melvin left the store but it faded away and was replaced by the usual, intermittent knocking sounds instead that were much easier to ignore.

“That was fun,” he said to himself.

The drive home was uneventful and he spent some time looking over the two medications and their instructions. Apparently he couldn’t eat grapefruit anymore since one of the meds would react badly with it. Strange, but not a terrible loss. The other med had to be taken right before bed. Easy enough.

After placing the pill bottles away, he grabbed a bar of unused soap from the bathroom. He couldn’t carry it around with him, but he could at least put it in his office where he spent most of his time. In fact, he could feel himself already beginning to switch, losing parts of himself. He sniffed the soap, trying to focus on the missing parts of his psyche, wanting them back. To his surprise and relief, he felt himself coming back together. Dr Scala had said it wouldn’t stop him from switching, but it would ease the transitions, right? That was what he wanted, anyway. Neither he nor Chuck would be happy if this resulted in them not being able to switch.

Melvin marked each day on his calendar to help him keep track of the days he missed. Right now he marked off Thursday. He paused a moment, looking at the past week. He’d met with Dr Scala on Tuesday. Vague memories of the past day or so hung in his memory but nothing jumped out at him as being all that important. He checked his phone for any notes and didn’t find anything.

It was almost bedtime so he brushed his teeth and got ready for bed. He had work in the morning and would need to figure out where Chuck had left off and where he needed to pick back up on their current project. He took his evening pill and went to bed.

In the morning, he took his other pill, got ready for the day, and went to work. Working from home was the best thing to ever happen for Melvin. No commute, flexible hours, no one breathing down his neck, and no requirement to wear pants. Melvin was only half serious about that last bit. Today he wore pajamas since there were no video meetings scheduled. He settled into his chair in his office and began looking over the code Chuck had written. Like usual, it was pretty clean and concise. There were notes about bug fixes he’d implemented as well as a few annotations about what he thought the next steps ought to be.

The day went by smoothly, with Melvin occasionally sniffing the bar of soap more as something to fidget with than to keep his personality stable. It wasn’t until lunch that he stopped and realized he hadn’t had to pause for any hallucinations. On most days, he’d have one or two larger hallucinatory events that would distract him enough that he’d have to stop and calm his mind. Today, though, he hadn’t even heard so much as a phantom footstep. Either today was a standout day or his meds were already kicking in and working.

In addition to the lack of hallucinations, his mind felt quiet overall. He didn’t feel Chuck or Samantha moving around in his mind, upset or agitated. They were there, but calm. What was more, he hadn’t felt depressed or had any thoughts of suicide. Melvin hadn’t really thought about it much at first, but the mere fact that he’d been able to sit down and just get to work was impressive. There was no arguing with himself over whether or not he’d be able to do anything, no panic attacks.

It was still early to tell how effective these medications would be, whether today was the new normal or if it was an anomaly, but so far he was just wondering why he’d taken so long to get help. He knew the answer to that question, of course, but all the same he couldn’t help but look back at all the time lost being overwhelmed by his mental illness.

The rest of his day was very much the same, being productive at work, even running a few errands in the evening, and going to bed feeling accomplished and hopeful.