I guess it really was something that's hard to define in regards to "normal."

She came out yesterday and was so supportive. Spent the better part of the day with me and really took care of me when I was battling really badly when we went out. Usually the crowds don't get to me as much as they did, though the rampant rudeness that was abound pushed me over the edge. I broke down when we finally got to the car and stayed there for quite some time.

We went home and she was so great. Holding my hand, making me feel at ease. I could barely function even at home, though her kind comments and jokes did make me smile. Every time she mentioned calling the crisis line my body froze up, my mind forcing me to a near catatonic state, hands clenching around whatever they were holding. She got me to a point where I could call, which was an incredible step.

The only downside is that the person on the line wasn't helpful in the least. Maybe I shouldn't have expected anything at all, but I wanted help. She put so much focus on the fact that I had cut myself a month ago and not on the debilitating part of what was going on. I was given a few other numbers and told to call other places during the week. I can't do that though because I work 40-50 hours a week monday through friday. I can't take a day off from this new job and don't have sick pay for another 90 days. What the heck am I supposed to do? Being told that the CRISIS LINE couldn't help me? That because I wasn't an iminent threat to myself in regards to commiting suicide that it was something that was just fine to put off? It took me three weeks, and a friend driving over 150 miles to see me to get me to call that number and it just feels like it doesn't matter. I'm trying to keep my head high through this, but everything in my head was only exascerbated by that phone call last night.