god i feel like shit
I can't sleep. There's not much worse than being all alone at nighttime when everyone is asleep, especially when you're prone to seeing things when left all alone at night.
Still haven't made it back to work yet. My meds make me clumsy, stumble, slur my speech. Can't have that a preschool. I fell out of bed last night, while I was still awake. And I fell really hard in the bathtub today, so Mom has added to my list of things I cannot do bathing when there's no one home to rescue me if I hit my head and start to drown.
Oh, and check this. She bought two of these personal home fireproof safe things (one for her house, where I'm still staying, and one for Justin). She keeps all of everyone's meds locked up in there, even Tylenol and Pepto Bismol. I guess I can't make too much fun, because I did break their trust by trying to OD, but it makes me feel like a fucking child. I get my day's medication in a little plastic container first thing in the morning, but that's it. I've also gotten her to leave out two Tylenol in case I get a headache while she's at work.
Therapy is going really well. I like this lady a lot. I didn't realize how intense it was going to be. Our main goal is to improve my self-esteem, but she thinks I'm going to have to face my issues with shame first. Shame about my body, my bipolar, myself. For the next couple weeks I'm supposed to tell her my life story, then we'll go back and analyze it together and find out where these feelings are coming from. Today was a tough day...I talked a lot about my anger issues with my dad for never being there, even now. I talked about my rocky childhood, and the death of my best friend when we were 10. I left almost crying, but she seems to think bottling up stuff like this is half my problem.
God I wish I could sleep. Even the fucking dog's asleep.
Still haven't made it back to work yet. My meds make me clumsy, stumble, slur my speech. Can't have that a preschool. I fell out of bed last night, while I was still awake. And I fell really hard in the bathtub today, so Mom has added to my list of things I cannot do bathing when there's no one home to rescue me if I hit my head and start to drown.
Oh, and check this. She bought two of these personal home fireproof safe things (one for her house, where I'm still staying, and one for Justin). She keeps all of everyone's meds locked up in there, even Tylenol and Pepto Bismol. I guess I can't make too much fun, because I did break their trust by trying to OD, but it makes me feel like a fucking child. I get my day's medication in a little plastic container first thing in the morning, but that's it. I've also gotten her to leave out two Tylenol in case I get a headache while she's at work.
Therapy is going really well. I like this lady a lot. I didn't realize how intense it was going to be. Our main goal is to improve my self-esteem, but she thinks I'm going to have to face my issues with shame first. Shame about my body, my bipolar, myself. For the next couple weeks I'm supposed to tell her my life story, then we'll go back and analyze it together and find out where these feelings are coming from. Today was a tough day...I talked a lot about my anger issues with my dad for never being there, even now. I talked about my rocky childhood, and the death of my best friend when we were 10. I left almost crying, but she seems to think bottling up stuff like this is half my problem.
God I wish I could sleep. Even the fucking dog's asleep.