Day 8

Or day 98736363637828. Whatever.

I need a shower. I need to do laundry.

What am I doing? Laying in bed. I can’t move.

I’m trying.

I was supposed to come up with more skills or some ways to help myself.

For real though, I can’t. I can’t focus long enough to do that.

My anxiety is WAY too high.

I can’t focus on anything. I have a new book I want to read and I just need to stare at it until it sinks in through osmosis I guess. I don’t know.

I’m upset.

Today’s also the end of my treatment plan with my case manager.

In the middle of a pandemic.

Right.

She promised she wasn’t leaving me out in the cold though, and I believe her, but honestly. That means she is dealing with me on her own time.

I am freaking out.

I need some more help with this anxiety because I don’t think I am doing very well with it and I can’t see my prescriber unless I become some kind of huge problem. Then I can talk to her on the phone or something I guess.

I don’t really want to be a huge problem. I just want help.

I don’t know.

So frustrated.

I am just going to hide now.

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