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some days, it just doesn't pay to knaw through the leather straps 10 January 2007 - 14:09 I spoke to 'Ama earlier about getting psychological help. For me. 'Cause, well... y'know. I have that tendancy to weird people out and shit. Well, no, not really. That's not the reason at all. I just... I'm alone in all this. Despite Pifas's Peeps, who don't even know who they are, I don't know anyone else who's like me, except maybe online. That, and being doubted by my own family really stings. I say this because of the Dud, of course. She still doesn't believe there's anything wrong with me. And I wouldn't really consider D.I.D. as wrong. Hell, I don't even think it should be called a disorder, but she thinks I'm making all this shit up and the only one person who truly believes me is drawing farther and farther from me with each day. Mar�a is just so engrossed in Nacho that she's got a mind for nothing else. It's come to the point where I'm the one pulling away, and both of them are starting to get to me, because they're both grown-ass adults, but neither of them acts that way. I guess everything's just sorta building up for me right now, and I need a breath of fresh air. My new insurance card just arrived in the mail the other day, and 'Ama suggested I look into different psychologists who'll accept it. Because this stress is cracking me up all over again, shit's just happening too fast both at work and at home and I don't know how much I'll be able to hack of it. I don't wanna relapse like I did back when Marco died. I had to shut this diary down back then, and I don't wanna do that again now. I know I'm ranting, but my brain is spewing out various thoughts faster than my clumsy fingers care to type.Fuck. It's late. I need to strap my boots on and go to work. And there goes my fuckin' cell. |