I even tried to follow my own plan and remember all the details about that last time I had a great week, but that didn’t help either. I know that I brought this all on myself. I know that I deserve this. I’d do anything not to be this way. I’d do anything to make it up to everyone. And to not have to see a psychiatrist, who explains to me about being, ‘passive aggressive.’ And to not have to take the medicine he gives me, which is too expensives for my dad. And to not have to talk about bad memories with him. Or be nostalgic about bad things. I just wish that God or my parents or him or my friends or someone would just tell me what’s wrong with me. Just tell me how to be different in a way that makes sense. To make this all go away. And disappear. I know that’s wrong because it’s my responsibility, an I know that things get worse before they get better because that’s what my psychiatrist says, but this is a worse that feels too big. NadineV.
