I seriously broke down in front of my psychiatrist a bit ago. He increased my Seroquel XR back to 600 mg and gave me an appointment for next week. I said almost nothing the first five minutes, just sat there in extreme distress, crying.

Only five minutes before I left for my psychiatrist's office, which is luckily only five minutes away by car, I read two emails from my sister. Apparently, the cops pulled up to my dad's car in his driveway (Dad was in his car). They had received my dad's license plate as a car who did a hit and run. Now there's a long scratch on his Mercedes and a long scratch on his truck. My sister said she wished they'd have arrested him, but they didn't. Instead he got a summons to appear in court. Why didn't the cop check him for being drunk?

I'm so overwhelmed with stress and sadness.

I had originally planned to pick something up at the store, but after reading my sister's emails I didn't want to. I felt guilty, but when I got to my psychiatrist's office I realized that I didn't have my wallet or phone. I was almost relieved. I had my wallet out in order to pay for something over the phone and forgot about it.