Thursday, June 21, 2012

Shrinks and happiness in a pot

I saw my psychiatrist today, the last day I will see her because her rotation is up, and she kept asking me if I should go to the hospital.

"What keeps you safe?"
"I don't know."
"You know you can always access the hospital if you need to, right?"
"I guess.  But they are just going to lock me in a room.  I won't feel any better.  It's like prison, except they bill you for it."
"Well, if you think you can't be safe, I'd like you to go."

Then she brought it up again later.

"Have you been cutting or burning yourself?"
Very quietly I answer, "yeah..."
"How much?"
"I don't know. More often."
"How are you burning yourself?"
"I heat a paperclip with a lighter and then hold it on my skin."
"Where?  Just your legs?"
"Sometimes other places."
"Do you think you are safe?  Any urges to hurt yourself more seriously?"
"The thoughts have increased."
"Would you go to the ER if you think you might not be safe?"
"I don't know."

She brought it up several times.

Then CT and I talked about my foster mom, thinking about child pornography all the time and almost crying at work.  We talked about how it's so much easier for people to give back their foster kids.  They are kind of like puppies.  When people can't deal with them they "send them to a better home."  We talked about how screwed up I was as a kid and the shitty way I feel about myself.

I have not been doing well this year at all.  Not at all.  I still really miss my cat.  It still feels like she's going to hop on my lap or crawl on my head when I'm sleeping.  I still have the urge to look for her and squeeze her furry little face when I'm sad.  I don't have her anymore because I'm a fucking moron and let her outside.

Dealing with the world inside my head is exhausting.  I am having "flashbacks" all the time.  At an increasingly unbearable rate and intensity.  I feel like I might snap at any moment, again.  I have a few good hours, maybe a day, and then I fall apart.  I am thinking about child pornography all the time and it really scares me.  What does it say about me that I am constantly thinking about child porn?  Maybe it means I am as sick as the people who look at it.  

I'm feeling really really low today.  My foster mom wrote back but I'm too low to even open it right now.  I want to crawl in a deep dark hole somewhere and wait for death.  Sometimes I just don't know why all of this is worth it.  Why am I worth this?  I'm not.

So in an effort to cheer myself up, I went and took care of the plants in my yard.  Little tiny flowers make me happy.