Status Updates From The Lost Weekend

“I haven’t got time to be neurotic.”

“Time! You haven’t got the imagination!”

She could hold out on him, of course, but what would be the use of that, either? If the pills would do him any good, put him to sleep—
She got them and set them down on the bed-table, with a fresh glass of water, and left him again.
He took the pills and the water, and was gratified to see that shaking had stopped considerably.

“Well, I'll see if I've got another."
"Let me have two. I need them, Helen. I've got to have them.”
She didn't argue. She knew it would be no use.

"Helen!"
She came quickly into the bedroom from the kitchen.
"Do you suppose I could have— Are there any— Have you got another one of those pills, by any chance?"
"Oh Don, do you think you need it?”
"I-I do, terribly. They aren't working at all."

… but everybody went on pretending,

…he felt a pang of pity as he thought of the futility of Wick ever trying to plan anything with him. You always got left. You could never bank on his being "all right" when the date came around. Worse than that, he had become a liar and dodger; there was no depending on him for the immediate afternoon, much less for dates ahead; he wasn't to be believed; not a word he said was to be taken seriously;