I just walked down to the hospital, waited for an hour just to book an appointment, and was told by the woman that saw me that they essentially wanted to stop seeing me anyway. I feel as if this is the world repeating endlessly, staggering. It's like reaching the breakthrough of actually trying to fix myself, and then being told I'm fine as I pop pills like candy and trace little red flowers over myself, all of this to go back to square one. Here's some placebos, call us if you need us. But you won't, you'll be fine. You're a big girl now, you know.
Fucking cunts. I feel like killing myself just to prove a point.
Or I could be over-reacting. She could have meant that they would transfer me over to some psychologist and such. Who even knows. God, I fucking hate their little mind games.
I need some serious fucking stress relief. And a glass of wine.
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