I look down into my hand at the little pile of multi-coloured meds for the morning. Yes I started taking them again, only lasted a week because I am far more dependent than I realised and the withdrawals were becoming too obvious to hide.
The deep feelings of inadequacy this twice daily ritual encompasses are seemingly endless.
Today I finally googled the names of some psychologists that were recommended to me 6 months ago, unfortunately I am not the Queen and as my funeral would cost less than a visit to them that impracticality put me firmly back to square one.
I then called the local mental health team to ask for a phone number for the psychologist that is covered by medicare. I need a referral from my GP then I can make an appointment.
GP is away until May. Might call back if I can be bothered seeing her - not much point once May hits, a little late anyway I reckon.
I have consolidated a folder containing PDF downloads and great resources for the family of suiciders … suicidees? Suicide
people who commit suicide… whadevva you want to call them I have a stockpile of
info to validate their feelings and give them ideas of ways to cope.
I have been binging like a mother fucker and my fat is expanding daily. None of my clothes fit me and a very small part of me WANTS to go to hospital PURELY because I can't binge there.
I’m going to go smoke a joint and go back to bed now. Not just because I am depressed but also because I have a killer sinus infection and my whole face hurts.