first of all. i wouldn’t have been inspired and motivated enough to write this blog post without the following video, so thank you connie glynn:

i watched it, and it’s very raw and honest. i want to thank her for helping me feel less alone, but i am too scared. maybe that is how some of my readers feel?

my computer is failing enough that i can’t really edit video (much). simple edits work, anything else makes it crash.

i can’t film right now anyways, it is 1am and people are sleeping.

even though some of my neighbors are being loud…ish.

even though i feel like i am choking on words. so i write! i always write when in enough doubt, it always helps. always, always, always. in the psych ward, out of the psych ward.

so i can go to the hospital. but as i have likely mentioned, my rapist still works as a counselor at the closest ward which her met me at (yes, i have reported him. three times.) so crisis can’t send me there. those that i love haven’t got…cars, in the usa, this car-centric country. and oh, my cats! i would miss my cats so much, and xena is already having such a hard time.

not to mention that the level of anxiety i’d feel would probably do permanent damage to my skin from my dermatillomania (it already has), and i can’t afford laser resurfacing for my face.

i have such a list of diagnoses, but honestly what is out of control most lately is my anxiety. i can’t sit comfortably in my own skin, in any place, but especially outside…i, like connie glynn, am borderline-housebound agoraphobic.

i miss being the old me. nostalgia, but worse, with extra ingredients.

am i going crazy from malnutrition? i can’t get food easily, and i can’t afford takeout. i might go live at my mom’s house. the heat is not necessary now. maybe i would have access to things there, like town. i can walk to town from there, if i can be brave enough.

i don’t know what to do about sabrina pouncing on xena. xena gets defensive, and i don’t blame her. she is less happy than she used to be, more afraid to move around the apartment. i feel for her. i love her.

i’m unsure how to function as a person. i am probably at hospital level care, but come on. a local bed search, minus the places i am ineligible for? how many days would i be in the ER? three? six? twelve? twenty, maybe, who knows.

mental health is so tricky, especially when it is bad, you know? you probably know, because you are here. typing that makes me feel less alone, though there are not so many of you as to make me feel like i’ve achieved something with my blogging, besides helping people, which is important, so i will shut up about that.

everything is so stressful!

xxooxo
zé