I spent over an hour today talking to a lady about why I was starting outpatient, or what they call partial hospitalization. It exhausted me to go over everything again, answering all of the same questions over and over. For some reason, I am having a hard time explaining things. The words are there, I have a vast vocabulary. But describing the inner pain that I feel is impossible.

I have to do at least 4 days a week due to insurance issues. I guess they figure if she’s going to do this, she better go balls to the walls. It starts at 9 am and ends at 2 pm. My husband will drop me off and my mother will pick me up. There is no smoking so you know that I will be sneaking one.

They yell at me and I say oops I am sorry. But I’m not! Ha!

It will almost be like having a job for awhile. If I don’t show up, they will send a police officer to my house for a safety check.

Um, no thank you. I had better get my ass there everyday. If I miss 3, I will be kicked out of the program.

I am feeling anxious about it. I could have started tomorrow, but decided to wait until next Monday. I wanted a few days to get myself ready. It will take me tons of mental and physical strength to pull this off.

But if I don’t do it, I will never get well. I simply cannot continue to live this way folks.

I did start to cry a few times. Having your brain picked apart by someone is emotional. We discussed my recent suicide attempt. Not fun. She asked me if I heard voices or wanted to hurt other people. I said no to both. Never.

I am just sad.

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