It’s been almost 4-hours since my last fix.
I can already start to feel the familiar chill in my bones, yet my palms are clammy and my head is hot to touch.
I have not thought about food for several minutes. A first.
I feel weak and dizzy as I look up at the clock and wait.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick…
I rest my head back and let my tired eyes close.
I think I even doze off for a moment, but images of dancing burgers and singing fries bombard my dreams.
A loud cough escapes from my chest and suddenly I am conscious again.
My nose is sore and red from wiping.
I attempt to stand but the room feels too cold.
My muscles have finally lost their ability to support my weight and my knees give way beneath me.
It takes all my energy to pull a blanket over my shoulders and hobble slowly towards the kitchen.
It is time.
It must be time.
Cautiously, I reach out a hand and find what I am looking for.
I hold the tiny sachet in my trembling hands and flick the switch on the kettle.
A small tear and the powder floats out from its wrapper like pretty snow flakes falling on virgin snow.
Within minutes, the warm liquid will be making its way through my body and soothing the pain away.
In another 4-hours, I’ll do this all over again.
Lemsip, I think I love you.