(no subject)
I find it hard to not be consumed with hatred at times.
I put on a happy face and play the ever forgiving martyr.
It fucks with my head.
My therapist tells me I'm not taking therapy seriously. She's serious. Seriously, am I serious about getting better? Grow a serious mustache. SERIOUSLY.
I skipped my session two days ago, and shes bombarding me with voicemails. Still havent called her back. She probably thinks I'm dead. I dont know what the hell my issue is. A few months ago, I was on such a mission for mental health. And now I'm like...completely not into at all. Which is totally out of charactor for me. I really think I'm doing good. INFACT, I've been awesome. And then every time I go to therapy I have to delve into the musty, spiderwebbed attic of my brain. Open those horror-filled antique trunks stored up there. Dig around for stuff to show to my therapist. Really not into it these days. I'm just like...forgetting. Its so much easier than going and talking everything out. And its working really well.
There are people who are in therapy for no reason, other than, there crazy, they dont know why, please help me feel better, etc etc etc. I know perfectly well why I'm nutty. I could explain the situations and people in perfect sequence that got me here, and for what reasons. I wasn't BORN this way. I have this and this and this because of that and him and who. Very simple. People who dont know what the fuck is wrong with them NEED therapy. People who know whats eating there guts and for what reasons should be strong enough to get over it on there own. My new philosophy. On the other hand, I'd probably die without my medications. So guess what? I'm a big fucking hypocrit.
I need such a weekend.
I put on a happy face and play the ever forgiving martyr.
It fucks with my head.
My therapist tells me I'm not taking therapy seriously. She's serious. Seriously, am I serious about getting better? Grow a serious mustache. SERIOUSLY.
I skipped my session two days ago, and shes bombarding me with voicemails. Still havent called her back. She probably thinks I'm dead. I dont know what the hell my issue is. A few months ago, I was on such a mission for mental health. And now I'm like...completely not into at all. Which is totally out of charactor for me. I really think I'm doing good. INFACT, I've been awesome. And then every time I go to therapy I have to delve into the musty, spiderwebbed attic of my brain. Open those horror-filled antique trunks stored up there. Dig around for stuff to show to my therapist. Really not into it these days. I'm just like...forgetting. Its so much easier than going and talking everything out. And its working really well.
There are people who are in therapy for no reason, other than, there crazy, they dont know why, please help me feel better, etc etc etc. I know perfectly well why I'm nutty. I could explain the situations and people in perfect sequence that got me here, and for what reasons. I wasn't BORN this way. I have this and this and this because of that and him and who. Very simple. People who dont know what the fuck is wrong with them NEED therapy. People who know whats eating there guts and for what reasons should be strong enough to get over it on there own. My new philosophy. On the other hand, I'd probably die without my medications. So guess what? I'm a big fucking hypocrit.
I need such a weekend.