This was the phone conversation that ensued between my mother and I earlier today:
Mum: Where are you?
Me: I’m visiting K in hospital.
Mum: …You’ve done it [overdosed] again?
Me: No! I’m visiting K! She was in an accident.
Mum: Why are you at hospital?
Me: K was in an accident and I’m visiting her!
Mum: K’s your friend?
Mum: Which hospital are you at?
Me: C’s (ie. Where I ended up twice in the ED after overdosing and where I was a psychiatric inpatient).
Mum: Okay…. *sounds doubtful*
Me: *Hangs up*
To be fair, I suppose my mum does have reason to automatically assume I was in hospital for overdosing. I have after all called her from hospital confessing I OD’d- twice last year. Yet, I was also somewhat irritated and quite indignant on the phone. Just because I said the word ‘hospital’ doesn’t mean I ended up on a hospital bed. It’s not me this time!
It’s nice to know this is what my mother expects out of me. Dear oh dear.