So, I feel like **** and got through last night by eating 4mg Xanax to sleep through my self destructive urges. This was after calling four hospitals over a 48 hour period trying to find a bed, and them all saying "sorry no adult female beds."

So finally I call a crisis house in Los Angeles who says sure we have a bed but not til our shrink clears you which isn't til tomorrow, so in the meantime well send a welfare check out to you. I told her no thanks bc there's no beds and nothing for them to do with me. She did it anyway so I grabbed my bag of overnight **** and took my mom to the store for snacks then to a movie (which I shall sleep through bc I'm still that ****ing hungover from Xanax).

My neighbor called saying the police and fire department had some serious **** your **** up tools trying to bash in my door to get inside to look around (I purposely left wooden door unlocked but screen was locked). Anyway they got in, found no dead body and questioned my neighbors who promptly called me to tattle on them.

Cops even called to see where I was. I ****ing hate cops. Their last welfare check resulted in them badly spraining two of my fingers, one of which I have yet to regain full feeling in, and my other hand shoots pins and needles when touched in certain areas. From them bending my fingers backwards as hard as they could bc apparently my legs weren't open wide enough for their search. **** my towns police up their *** and then some.

They should go help someone else who they don't feel the urge to laugh at or physically injure just bc they think mental illness is that ****ing funny.

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