Save me.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I have to go out of town, and I have to see my family.

That isn't completely horrible, it's just the... "Why don't you have God in your life? I think you'd have a lot less problems if you'd just go to church and accept Jesus Christ as your savior. He'll forgive you for your sins! Come on, come pray with us. It won't hurt you. Praying will make you stronger, it'll change your life! Whether you like it or not, you are one of God's children..."

I don't want to complain too much, though. I enjoy them when my anxiety is under control, and it will be tomorrow. Dr. Murphy filled my meds early (I love her) and I'm probably going to get drunk before I go. Hopefully no one notices, though it's pretty obvious. No one noticed last Christmas, though.

Next week: Monday, two appointments. One with my therapist, one with my primary care doc. Friday, one appointment. With my psychiatrist. I think she's going to give me a higher dosage of Abilify, since it's been decent so far.

I'm afraid to believe that we've finally found something that works. I've tried so many different medications over the past few years, and had so many different reactions to them all, and here I am, a new psychiatrist, and the very first thing she gives me, it works?

I'm not getting my hopes up.

But I feel better now that I have in a long time. It could be the meds, it could be other things. I'm not entirely sure.


I think it is important to note that I don't feel guilty anymore about leaving my dad. I think I finally got to that point a few days ago, when I realized that he has found happiness with someone else, and is living now. He was an empty shell, and she has brought him back. It's nice. It has taken a lot of pressure from my shoulders. For the longest, I felt so bad that my mother left him and took me with her. It was partially my fault, and I couldn't stop feeling guilty when he was barely alive.

He's okay now, though, and so am I.


I saw Trinity tonight. She wanted me to chase her all over the apartment, but I was tired, so I just laid down on her bedroom floor and let her jump all over me. I wouldn't be surprised if I had a cracked rib or something now.


I think I should edit some of my story.