I’m fine. I mean – on some levels I really am fine. It’s just that I’d forgotten how many levels there are. So on one level I’m arranging to view houses and eating Super Goodness porridge (surely guaranteed to make you super recovered) and convincing myself that I will start functioning again, any minute now. And on another level someone is crying “I hate myself and want to die” and getting rather loud about it.
It’s something my psychologist said. Four little, apparently innocuous words, but I just tried writing them here and I can’t even do that. I keep hearing them echoing over and over in my head and they make me want to curl up and zone out for the rest of my life. They’ve caused a shit storm, sent me into a tail spin, brought about near total paralysis.
So yeah. Last week I thought I was doing really well. This week I’m mental as fuck again. This DID thing (that I definitely don’t have) is all the fun, huh?