she was adamant that i take the pills the psych prescribes and i said no, not happening because they just don't work. what about a new combination or ...? i shut it down real quick. no combos, no pills. if that's "therapy blocking behaivor" then suck eggs. you're lucky my ass is here listening to you.
she's not going to listen at all. i can just tell. it's "follow protocol, take pills" and blah blah blah. it's always the same. i don't trust her at all and she knows this. she claims i don't really want to be helped. i told her then why did i drag my ass out of bed and make the 2 hour journey across town to see your stupid face this early in the morning. i must want help because i'm here.
ugh, i don't want to deal with this again. i really don' t want to deal with anyone at all. they always see me as a problem to be fixed, some kind of special project to mould and shape so they can mark me off as a 'success story'. bitch please.
i don't see what the big deal is. "you have to want to live". no, i don't. i don't have to do shit. i'm sick of the got to need to have to mess. i'm sick of no one fucking listening. when i mentioned i'm a writer and own a small press i got another 'oh that's nice' drivel. i don't see why i bother mentioning it at all. they automatically assume because i'm some kind of crazy that my books are crazy person writings. maybe it is and i'm just fooling myself.
she also got on my case about my heavy drinking. i told her until she lives in the enviroment i'm in, she can shove it in her ear. "then you must want to be miserable."
yea, thanks, i like being poor. i like being used and hurt. i like being stuck in this hell with no way out. thanks a lot for being so understanding lady with the fancy degree and fancy job and fancy car and fancy clothes. thanks for just looking at me and knowing oh so much better on how to fix my life.
i need to get back to planning. i can't take the bullshit anymore.