2006-06-08, 12:06 p.m.
I've been avoiding my own diary. Everytime I am concious of my existant of wave of anxiety comes over me. It seems like since I remember I'm alive, there are all these expectaions and things I need to be doing but don't want to do. I need to get a job, I need to beat bulimia, I need to go back to school.
I actually have a job interview today but I'm trying to think of a good reason to rescheduel. Too depressed to get dressed and be fake. But I don't know if I'll be any better tomorrow, anyway. I'll probably kick myself for not going yesterday when I have to go tomorrow.
I called Rita in a frantic panic last Saturday and asked her to please please call me. I haven't heard a word and I'm furious. Rita would say, you can buy my time but you can't buy my care. Apparently I can't buy either because she won't see me on an outpatient basis and she appears to not care enough about me to call back.
After my meth panic last week, I swore off the shit. However, I saw him on Sunday again and not only did we things that are still making me cringe, but I did some meth. Not nearly as much as I did last time so I didn't have a terrible crash but I'm still not hungry or can sleep. I've gotten 8 hours max sleep for the past 3 nights. The only thing I've consumed for the past 72 hours has been SF popsicles and frozen yogurt. Atleast i'm not bingeing.
Too much reflection. Must go numb self now.