My husband seems upset about my existence. My son went to a birthday party. He had fun. I went with my parents to see lights and take my nephew home. I need a shower but I really don't want to it's been a week or so. I don't want my husband to see my marks and if I shower he will. I don't need his pity. He doesn't need that. Plus it looks way worse then it is.

When this is all over maybe we'll go to therapy. We need to find a team that work together. I'm going to need someone that will work with high risk clients so I don't pull my punches. I know I don't want more meds. I know I can be dealt with out patient. I need one that doesn't give up on me because I'm "not progressing." Every day I make it through I'm "progressing". Don't they realize I hate being low functioning more then they do. Maybe they just didn't want to risk their licence? I believe I want help even if it doesn't look like it.