i hate being crazy

blah.

if you got an email from me and were all, "wtf, this was from two months ago," sorry, i was going through email and realzied i hadn't responded to a lot of them.

i'm really looking forward to this dr appointment this week.  i pretty much spent today in bed crying at random things on tv. fucking bob ross and his stupid show. he's all calm and collected as he paints, and i'm sitting there using my sheet to soak up the tears as they roll down my face.

i just want this to go away. i hate crying at random times for stupid reasons like, "that's a nice tree he painted," and "that house is ugly, hgtv," and "why haven't i eaten in 36 hours?"  i can't watch anything with a real story now, because i either hate the characters for socializing, or i pity them for being just like me. i just want my brain to stop fighting me.

:(

so, just so you know, being crazy isn't really that fun

yesterday i went to my new doctor appointment, and after listening to a boring dvd about the difference between psychiatrists and psychologists (and, ignore all that, because i'm getting a social worker instead), i finally got to talk.

and really, for like the first time in months, i kind of had the feeling that someone actually gave a fuck about me, and wanted to try to make my brain not want to kill me.

which, when you think about it, is probably a good thing.

there were some things i'm not sure he picked up on, but we talked for an hour and a half, and i could get a lot of the shit that weighs down on me off my chest, and he didn't care that we were probably only supposed to talk for an hour or any crap like that.

so, maybe, possibly, i've found someone who can make me not hate myself so much, and we can try to work through all this shit and make me a functional human being again.  that'd be great, because dealing with the side effects of feeling worthless and suicidal is kind of terrible.

i have two new appointments made, and he wants to keep that up, so we always have a month of sessions planned out. he also told me that if i freak him out too much, he's calling the cops and locking me in the room until they arrive to take me to the hospital. i guess that's good, because it pretty much means that if he thinks i'm too close to killing myself, he's going to take over and force me into a stricter "stop being crazy" treatment.  again, probably a good thing.

thanks again for dealing with my shit, everyone. thanks to danny for remembering my birthday, although i'm not big into the astrology stuff, thanks anyway. it's good to know that someone is out there remembering me and wishing i could fight my demons and get my brain right. thanks a lot. Really.

thanks to joe for being a douche. shall we quote your email, dick-face?:

"u are so hot what u need is to be with a man who is as filthy and crazy as you are
then you wont feel depressed and like there is something wrong with you.
get to know me. im real and into shit and piss and peversions as much as you are"

yes, thanks.  i'm sure that all i really need is a "man" to fuck me into sanity. that's wonderful help. maybe after that, you can stab me until this cough goes away? that seems to me to about the same level of therapy.

as for james, simone, miguel, lee, and mr. anonymous who all left supportive comments: thanks a lot. i really want to try to get better. it's people like you who come here and see the perverted shit i post and still think, "hey, this girl needs help. let's try to get her back on her feet so she feels good about herself, and then she can do whatever she wants." that's a great improvement over the people who just want me to suck it up, post porn so they can jack off, and if that makes me want to die, who cares, because i'm just some replaceable slut. i hope you have the bestest lives ever. you're really the best people i've met on this journey. i hope i can sort my shit out so we can all masturbate to super perverted shit again, like in the old days.