I finally got the copy of the the letter my psychiatrist wrote to my doctor, and apparently I agreed to wait until September for the medication. I clearly said I wanted it before going away this month as the main reason I want it is to try and prevent having a complete breakdown while I’m in London.
Though, my therapist said she was emailing my psychiatrist about the meds as I told her I was suppose to have a prescription ready for when I had my blood test done. So my psychiatrist should be calling soon and I can sort out what’s happening.
I was left alone for longer than I expected, again. Which resulted in me sitting behind the wall in the dining room with a knife because I kept hearing things moving around outside my front door and upstairs.
I haven’t saw Jeremy today, and, surprisingly, Bree was only with me for a few hours. Although, all she did was be horrible to me the entire time. But I was thankful for the company nonetheless, as I was freaking out after being left for so long and fearing someone was trying to get me.
In the end I thought my mum had abandoned me – she said she’d only be an hour and was almost 3. So I contemplated calling my psychiatrist to say my mum had left (which is surprising considering my anxiety means phone calls are nonexistent in my life).
My mum came home minutes before I dialled the number and I was about to literally recite an entire essay-long speech i mentally prepared about how worried I was that she left me, when she started yelling at me for a reason I couldn’t begin to comprehend. Needless to say, I switched like a lightbulb and hated her. Storming upstairs for half hour thinking of all the ways I could make her life a living hell, consulting with Bree on which the best one would be. Fun.
My mum decided at 5 this afternoon she was still going out, despite me obviously having trouble coping with everything, leaving me to babysit my brother for 3 hours until my stepdad got home from work.
I almost passed out downstairs from my lack of sleep. I’ve been putting off coming up to my room, as Bree likes to get to me in here the most. She knows I won’t storm out the room like I do any other time as I can’t let my dog out the room of a night.
After 4 cups of coffee in the last hour I gave up and I’m in my room fighting with my eyes while waiting for Bree to show up, because I know it’s better to let her get it over with now than to let her sit all night building the anger up until she explodes continuously for hour the next day. I know better than that now.