(no subject)
I need to quit posting when it's late. I was far too depressed.
So. I sort of just opened my mouth and kept talking at my psychiatrist, over him and over him until he let me through, came in with a notebook and numbers and explanations of how he would call in my meds, the options of those places he could call it into and all the phone numbers and hours of each possibility. I explained to him he would be doing this or I would find another psychiatrist in the city of Missoula, point blank. It was not a question.
I've also looked up and compiled a list of books I need to buy online from the university's bookshop and informed my Dad that he should stop bitching about me being unprepared and order them. He has yet to do so, but it's shut him up.
Having sorted out my meds and informed my psychiatrist that there are many, many more options besides him I can go to if he's going to withhold panic attack meds the week of my move-in, he begrudgingly called it in, seeing I was just too bullshitted out to care if he called me out on it. The paperwork hassle of someone else was not an empty threat.
My brother has bailed on going back to college. Fortunately he and I have never been close and I wasn't counting on any emotional support. The last time we were at a closer, smaller college together he had dinner with me once every two weeks or so or would say hello to me as we crossed paths - or not. He's never been there for me. One of the reasons I laugh off the entire anime subgenre of brother-sister incest is that no, actually big brothers are not protective. They aren't doting. They don't help you with tough lessons and show up at performances to show their support. He lives under this roof and he plays video games and talks to me in brief sound bites. My reaction to his decision to not go was a shrug.
I expected to go in all alone, anyway. Nothing's changed. All I need now is a few more items to pack for college, and some cleaning done on my own room. Due to how my father was with me when I was growing up, I define 'clean room' as 'an empty a room as is feasible', so everything needs to be folded or boxed and put into the closet so that I leave behind what I consider a decent room. With the shelves empty and everything put into drawers or the closet, I consider my room clean.
College has actually made me much neater than I was before. I lived in a quad last semester with one girl deadset on blaming the three of us for her messes, and keeping my own room spotless as well as regularly bleaching and washing down our shared bathroom made it hard for her to have anything to complain about - other than the smell of bleach, since her room was closet to the bathroom. Currently I have a mini vacuum and air fresheners ready for college. Bring it.
Fuck getting there on Saturday, though. Sunday will be nothing but boredom and anxiety and probably me rearranging furniture only to put it back where it was.
So. I sort of just opened my mouth and kept talking at my psychiatrist, over him and over him until he let me through, came in with a notebook and numbers and explanations of how he would call in my meds, the options of those places he could call it into and all the phone numbers and hours of each possibility. I explained to him he would be doing this or I would find another psychiatrist in the city of Missoula, point blank. It was not a question.
I've also looked up and compiled a list of books I need to buy online from the university's bookshop and informed my Dad that he should stop bitching about me being unprepared and order them. He has yet to do so, but it's shut him up.
Having sorted out my meds and informed my psychiatrist that there are many, many more options besides him I can go to if he's going to withhold panic attack meds the week of my move-in, he begrudgingly called it in, seeing I was just too bullshitted out to care if he called me out on it. The paperwork hassle of someone else was not an empty threat.
My brother has bailed on going back to college. Fortunately he and I have never been close and I wasn't counting on any emotional support. The last time we were at a closer, smaller college together he had dinner with me once every two weeks or so or would say hello to me as we crossed paths - or not. He's never been there for me. One of the reasons I laugh off the entire anime subgenre of brother-sister incest is that no, actually big brothers are not protective. They aren't doting. They don't help you with tough lessons and show up at performances to show their support. He lives under this roof and he plays video games and talks to me in brief sound bites. My reaction to his decision to not go was a shrug.
I expected to go in all alone, anyway. Nothing's changed. All I need now is a few more items to pack for college, and some cleaning done on my own room. Due to how my father was with me when I was growing up, I define 'clean room' as 'an empty a room as is feasible', so everything needs to be folded or boxed and put into the closet so that I leave behind what I consider a decent room. With the shelves empty and everything put into drawers or the closet, I consider my room clean.
College has actually made me much neater than I was before. I lived in a quad last semester with one girl deadset on blaming the three of us for her messes, and keeping my own room spotless as well as regularly bleaching and washing down our shared bathroom made it hard for her to have anything to complain about - other than the smell of bleach, since her room was closet to the bathroom. Currently I have a mini vacuum and air fresheners ready for college. Bring it.
Fuck getting there on Saturday, though. Sunday will be nothing but boredom and anxiety and probably me rearranging furniture only to put it back where it was.