Don’t want this. Don’t want this don’t want this don’t want this.
Don’t want to be made to promise to not seriously harm myself. Don’t want to have control of my life taken away from me. Don’t want people on my back. Don’t want people knowing that I have issues, that I’m not quite sane. Don’t want to be pressured into finding ‘recovery.’ Whatever that means.
Want so much to exclaim to everyone, ‘I’ve changed my mind! I don’t want help, I don’t want help, and futhermore, I don’t need help!’
Made an appointment with the new psychiatrist today, after much anxiety about making the call. Wanted so much to back out of this whole thing called ‘seeking help.’ Tempted to just not make the call. Thwarted by the fact that I have an appointment with the GP tomorrow and it will look incredibly slack on my part if I had not made an appointment by today.
Thing is, I am such a people pleaser, so afraid of disappointing others, that the prospect of turning up tomorrow to admit that I have not even tried to help myself by making that appointment is worse than forcing myself to gather up what tiny amount of courage I had to make that call.
Thus, an appointment has been made. 28th of May. I knew it would take a couple of months, starting with a new psychiatrist does not happen that quick.
Things are moving along too fast, I can’t keep up. All this drama has happened within the time frame of a week. Back it up, back it up, it’s all too much.
Just let me keep pretending everything is fine, please? It would make everything a whole lot simpler.
‘And the worst part is before it gets any better we’re headed for a cliff,
And in the freefall I will realise that I’m better off when I hit the bottom.’
-Turn It Off by Paramore