Today my therapist tried to have me hospitalized. I begged her not to do it but she wouldn't listen to me. She held me hostage in her office and wouldn't even let me out to use the restroom. WTF? When I said I'm going to the bathroom, you can follow me if you want to. She did.
We waited 45 minutes for the police to come. The police wouldn't take me to the hospital because I don't meet their criteria. The police officer said "She doesn't meet 7 out of 10 of our criteria. I mean just looking at her right now, she's not disheveled, she's doesn't look like she's going to hurt anyone." The officers left the room to make some phone calls on my therapist's insistence and when they were gone, L and I sat in silence for a long time before I said, "Wait, they would take me if I was disheveled?" We burst out laughing and then I cried again.
I'm so happy I am not being locked up but now I don't have a therapist anymore and I need help. Now I am worse off than before.
I need a fucking martini.