You’ve been “tired” lately. You’ve been isolating yourself, under eating and overeating. In addition to the shitshow of habits you’ve picked up, you’ve been smoking and drinking.

Kate knows what’s happening. You can’t lie to her or tell her you’re “tired.” Because she’s been “tired.” She knows what it looks and feels like. She won’t forgive herself if something happens to you.

Tonight, you sit by the pool, with some alcohol and a lit ciggy. You jolt when Kate, your mother, steps behind you.