I see my therapist this afternoon. It's going to be the last time I try unless something changes drastically. I'm angry!
I'm mad at him for missing my urgency of symptoms last time. I'm mad at me for caring about my friends and talking to them about the crap tearing them apart and having it thrown into being my problem this morning. I'm mad at myself for continuing to sleep with my ex even though I know I'm only going to get hurt. I'm just now in from a serious hour of physical activity that I hoped would be strong enough to stop my heart. It only heightened how I feel and I realized "holy f----! I'm riding into traffic! If someone comes up this one way they will hit me. It's narrow!"
So I'm home now. My car isn't currently drivable because of mechanical problems. I'm getting a ride to my therapist later, this also means that I won't have to worry about parking if I go to the hospital again. I almost hope I go but I almost hope I get away with it. I almost hope.
But more than almost, I'm hopeless.