![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Jun. 20th, 2003
naturally, the second i stopped moving -- and believe me, i wouldn't have if i had an option -- everything crashed down on me again and now i'm still in bed at 2:45 in the afternoon, have done no work, and am spending my time alternately playing angband and crying. yes, i have a psychiatrist appointment for tuesday. obviously the medication needs adjustment.
but i'm still pretty fucking torn up about the events of last week, and the group therapy situation is not helping any. i'm miserable, i'm exhausted, i'm in pain, i miss my friends, and apparently my not being prepared to make a dramatic faux-suicide attempt to get attention means i'm going to have to leave the therapy group. i guess that, as is usual in my life, someone else appears to need help more than i do (and i will stress that "appears to" because i'm feeling EXTRA WHINY), so i will just have to soldier on by myself. again.
sometimes, i get so fucking sick of being the strong one. i'm really pretty damn sick of hearing about how strong i am. even diamonds will crack under enough pressure, and i am far, far from being a precious jewel.
but i'm still pretty fucking torn up about the events of last week, and the group therapy situation is not helping any. i'm miserable, i'm exhausted, i'm in pain, i miss my friends, and apparently my not being prepared to make a dramatic faux-suicide attempt to get attention means i'm going to have to leave the therapy group. i guess that, as is usual in my life, someone else appears to need help more than i do (and i will stress that "appears to" because i'm feeling EXTRA WHINY), so i will just have to soldier on by myself. again.
sometimes, i get so fucking sick of being the strong one. i'm really pretty damn sick of hearing about how strong i am. even diamonds will crack under enough pressure, and i am far, far from being a precious jewel.
oh, and did i mention
Jun. 20th, 2003 03:09 pmtomorrow is the anniversary of C. leaving. six years since i came home from a role-playing session and found his Sparc 10, his clothes, and his toothbrush gone, the bank account looted, and a note sitting on a chair that said "check your email". the email contained the Dear Jane letter.
every year around this date i get really stressed out and anxious. of course, i didn't get to talk about that in group on Monday, because OG was too busy whining about her travails with the goddamn phone company. because, you know, in a relationship group, it's much more important to bitch about the phone company than it is to discuss lingering trauma from past relationships, right?
yes, it is true. i am in an utterly, completely, and in fact unabashedly vile mood.
every year around this date i get really stressed out and anxious. of course, i didn't get to talk about that in group on Monday, because OG was too busy whining about her travails with the goddamn phone company. because, you know, in a relationship group, it's much more important to bitch about the phone company than it is to discuss lingering trauma from past relationships, right?
yes, it is true. i am in an utterly, completely, and in fact unabashedly vile mood.