2/15/17 — My Letter to the White House: I need a medical diagnosis #amillionlettersaday
We are suffering. The American people are collectively suffering. I know I am.
I can’t pinpoint the date I started to feel it — maybe sometime close to, I don’t know, mid-November. But I can assure you that my symptoms really came full flush in January and still aren’t under control.
I seem to be unusually agitated and get this confusion that comes on suddenly. I’m 70 years old and every now and then I struggle to find a word or name that I know I know. But this isn’t that. It’s just an overwhelming and disorienting confusion. To find relief I turn off the television and take the dogs for a walk.
And then sometimes I have these odd hallucinations. Not like when I was a kid and once or twice smoked too much pot. No. More like hearing things that can’t possibly be real, things that if I shared with anyone else they would send for the wagon and lock me in a padded room. Sometimes I think I see things too, scary and disgusting animals. Nutria, or maybe moles, scurrying in high places.
Of course, this has me shaking and sleeping poorly. Even now, the shakes overcome me and I can barely hit the right keys on the keyboard. I’m frightened. Is the world coming to an end? There is such a feeling of impending doom that I’m worried about the imminent death of our democracy.
Do you think this is the DT’s, Mr. Trump??