(Sorry lots of swearing)
My therapist, which I no longer have because 8 sessions are apparently enough for me to get over the last 26 years of being alive has gone, Well I mean they want to see me back in a month because they are worried about me, but I just don’t feel that it is good enough. I do get it. it’s a charity. but I guess the point is that the NHS should fund this. I need help. and what would they prefer, using resources stitching me up and pumping my stomach or have someone listen to me for a few months? I assume it’s the first one as that seems to be what’s happening.
My therapist thinks these mood swings are the result of me being angry at my parents for canceling our holiday and not telling me until 2 months after they had decided that was a thing. Well, it’s ok for them they were going on holiday again in November and my brother has two holidays this year. I look forward to two damn things in my whole fucking life. that fucking holiday and fucking Christmas and they are both fucked because half my family decided to fucking die last year. Thank’s everyone!So apparently my autism is tingling. yep, this is probably some massive month long meltdown or some shit I wouldn’t know because there’s another thing no one has talked to me about since my initial assessment, or maybe the problem is the lack of holiday and how I have to spend time with my family and how the house is a shithole because they don’t clean and don’t seem to be able to decorate in a sensible time frame. means that my moods seem to change more than Taylor Swift’s boyfriends.
I mean fuck! this is ridiculous. I don’t feel like I can do anything. I seem to have exhausted all of the options with my doctor, who doesn’t seem to do anything besides tell me that “you know whats best for you” now. or Mind who also seem to have given up now I’ve had 8 weeks of therapy. So I’ve looked into a once a month bipolar support group which I’m sure I will go on to feel like also can’t offer me any support and the literally the only option left is death. I can’t fix myself and guess what no one else can because no matter how much someone tells me something is my fault, my brain is still like “yeah. it is though”
So I booked a fruitless appointment with my doctor for a weeks time because apparently he’s more popular then fucking Justin Bieber and nobody can fucking see him for two weeks. which is fantastic. I could be dead by then, and I don’t even mean kill myself. I mean I could just die from a heart attack from this level of anger. or you know so could anyone else.
I admit I feel like I’m wasting his time going back and forth and getting nothing and maybe it’s frustrating for both of us. but it’s his fucking job to be a doctor, I shouldn’t be having to tell him what I want, how the hell do I know what I want? How can I make a decision like that? I can’t even decide what I want for fucking breakfast.
So anyone who would like to take me out to the pastures and shoot me, please form a line at the door with your applications forms in hand. Not that I would be able to make a decision. Maybe you should just form a firing squad and shoot on sight.
The Elephant in the Room