I'm Getting A New Therapist!


As some of you remember, I walked out on Melfi last December right before Christmas after her unprofessional and frankly fucking rude behaviour with me. I figured I could freewheel for a bit, get my shit together...well I failed. That shouldn't come as a surprise, seeing some of the content I've been posting on here and some of my snide comments. I just can't do it anymore. I felt okay when I was away for the most part, but it's just out of my control. 
The depression is getting to the point where most days I don't wanna eat or make any effort. I'm almost unable to care for myself with how bad depression is. My mood has been rapidly cycling as well, riding through the highs and lows scaring those around me who actually give a fuck. I don't know what to do with myself. I can't keep my focus worth a fuck. It takes me the longest time to complete the simplest of tasks. I don't have the willpower or the energy.
 I know I'm a tremendous burden. I'm stressing everyone out with my illness, creating a world of misery for everyone else to inhabit. Maybe I'm selfish in not wanting to inhabit the planet alone; no, there's no maybe. I am selfish. I'm upsetting everyone around me because I can't get my shit together. I should probably feel worse than I do over it, but I do feel something...like I should just shut the fuck up and keep it all to myself because nobody wants to hear about what's going on in my head. Most days now, I'm like a toddler screaming for attention. Screaming for mummy's loving arms because I can't take the constant assault on my senses. I've pushed my Chubby to the edge of his rope and I'm struggling to hold onto him before he jumps off the deep end with me. J-icle is having her anxiety set off by all of my mood swings and odd behaviour. It was kind of a shock to hear about her needing extra support and things adjusted. I knew I was an asshole, just not to this level. Worst of all is poor Kinder. He's trying to help and clean up both Chubb and me and we're just pulling him down. Everything is unravelling like an old jumper. Maybe it would be best if I leave everyone alone. 
I feel like it's all my fault, but logically, I know there are so many other factors at work with Chubb, J-icle and Kinder. Though I guess both Chubb and I have to equally share the blame on Kinder. We push the man to his absolute limits. Neither of us have the ability to take responsibility and be adults most of the time with everything going on in our heads, me especially. We're good for each other, because the other understands, but when we set each other off it's a complete fiasco. On some level, we know this. Its a struggle to sort it out. It always feels like we're living on bororwed time.
I've wound myself up into knots again and I don't even know-Actually, I do know what a large part of it is. Me being sucked back into the toxic pool that is my family. I can't put all the blame on these arseholes though; I was almost this bad when I was away from them those blissful 7 years. I need to make better choices, I know that I'm just stuck on how to do it. I need to find direction, energy and motivation. Every time I get the taste of those three things, it slips away in the blink of an eye. I need to learn how to hold onto these things. 

I have some reservations about seeing a new therapist. I worry that I won't be able to open up That I'll just sit there putting on an act like always; smiling when I have to, hiding pieces of myself. There are so many things I have to explain to another new person and I don't know if I'm up for it. Things that I can't hide if I want this to work. I do want this to work but I worry that it will just be a waste of time like the other...15 that I've seen. I think that maybe I don't deserve going to one? Maybe this is the way that I need to be? Maybe by me going I'm hogging up time that I'm not supposed to be having. What if they don't see my problems as problems and think that I'm just a drama queen? What if they can't help me? All these what-ifs echo through my head, giving me a tremendous headache.

I've got the intake next Friday, so let's see how that goes. I hate a lot of the dumbass questions that they ask; a lot of them are vague and pointless. They wind me up more than they should and by the time I actually get to talk to someone, I'm in no mood. Everybody does it differently. Hopefully, this time I'm not given some sort of dumbass questionnaire. If they do, I might just explode. I'm going to chronicle the experience on here, sharing parts of what goes on, thoughts and feelings, kinda like what I did with Melfi and Elvira. Oh, fuck me. This means that I have to come up with a new name for who I see. It should be interesting to say the least. I think that maybe sharing will help give me some extra closure and motivation, two things that I really need. 

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