It should be a good. The sun is shine. Birds are singing. I made it through church service.

I'm anxious and feel sick. I have 73 klonopin. I have razors. I have these scary intrusive thoughts and they're getting worse. My coping skills aren't helping.

I sing songs I like. I drank a beverage I like. I'm writing in my pretty journal.

I don't feel ok.

I don't see T for two weeks. He's booked up.

I'm mad I feel this way.