Since i have been somewhat down in the dumps over the past few weeks ( and debated a thousand ways to kill myself ) I thought it might not be such a bad idea to go see my counselor. So I made an appointment for Friday afternoon and almost didn’t make it.
My car, temperamental at the best of times, decided it was too hot for him to budge from the cool shady spot he was parked in and refused to start up. So I was left to the mercy of a taxi with a driver who though it was a good idea to lecture me on the falling moral standards of youth while driving down a busy road and actually turned back to emphasize his point. After several near misses I reached my destination. First order of business – text Rhys to please come pick me up after an hour. I just did not have the nerves to handle another ride in the death-cabs of the city.
My counselor, sweet girl that she is, once again tried to convince me to see a psychiatrist about getting some anti-depressants but I turned her down. No way am I getting on to medications except as a last resort. So we spent an hour analyzing my situation and how I have managed to fuck up a perfect life ( my words …. though she disagrees ) and in the end she suggested that I must really force myself to start living my life …. whatever that means.
So no matter how much I wanna stay in my jammies and curl up in bed I must now get up and go shopping, or dining or to the movies. Sounds like a plan, doesn’t it ?
Except I spent the entire day today in bed ….. again……
Oh boy I need some serious inspiration to move out of my room …… Any ideas ?