(no subject)
Things kind of came to a head yesterday. There was a fire that spread to public transit between the City and the East Bay. My therapist cancelled our appointment, but we decided to do a phone appointment instead. It turned out to be awful because I don't like to discuss certain subjects like the neighbors if I'm anywhere near a window, and with Mark asleep in the front room, I was right by a window, and I'm not that far away from the neighbors who I believe have said the worst things about me. The phone kept cutting out too. The therapist was asking me about how I felt about the neighbors and I got so frustrated I started crying. Then I tried to talk to Mark about it, and he got upset when I told him I was taking all my psych meds at night. It's something I really hadn't thought about all that much with the ramifications. He was telling me I needed to get residential, long-term care so they'd give me my meds at the right time. I really freaked out, was crying uncontrollably. My mom thought I should get some kind of alarm, so when Mark woke up again, I asked him to put alarms in my phone to ring at the right time to take my pills.
My therapist doesn't think I could even get into a long-term care halfway house. He says my symptoms aren't acute enough even if I wanted to go, which I don't.
Having psychiatric problems really isn't easy sometimes. My nose is still blocked up, probably from all that crying.
My therapist doesn't think I could even get into a long-term care halfway house. He says my symptoms aren't acute enough even if I wanted to go, which I don't.
Having psychiatric problems really isn't easy sometimes. My nose is still blocked up, probably from all that crying.