October 30 D1255 Brooklyn
[excerpt]

I’m doing worse than usual. I feel distant and detached from my body and I think I’d be suicidal if I weren’t so mentally absent. This disorientation started this weekend and I’ve been waiting for it to go away. It feels like something malicious and terrifying is living inside me. I think one reason I’m so stressed about going out this evening is that my head is in this space and I couldn’t possibly feel less social.

The other thing compounding my stress is the cost of doing therapy twice a week. I’ve found twice a week really beneficial but I’m having trouble managing it and I almost wish it were never suggested in the first place, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten used to it. I think I have to go back to once a week. Accelerating the urgency of the money thing is that I’ve been relying on the 60% reimbursement from my insurance, but the shitty new insurance plan starts November 1st which means I go back to paying 100% until I meet a deductible so astronomical it borders on sadistic. I wish insurance didn’t determine how much therapy I can have.

Only three hours before I have to meet up with everyone when all I really want to do is curl up in bed and cry until I die. I’m not okay and I’ve been keeping myself together by staying as numb as possible. The only time I’m honest with myself is when I journal and this is the only reason I know how fucking badly I’m doing. I don’t know what to do and I feel like I have no options. I just have to get through the day, every day, until all of this is over. I’m so tired.