“Things are going well at the new place. Then unpacking is going well. the cats adjusted well. The birds have adjusted well. Lake and I have adjusted well. We getting internet access tomorrow which is very good, I've felt very cut off from the world. It's amazing how addicted I am to being in touch with everything. That's about that's about it.”
I didn't make any progress on my room last night. At all. Did very badly mentally, very panicked and switchy, until I finally got myself to sleep. I wish I had something to just knock myself out with sometimes.
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Harriette showed up at 9:00 this morning, as planned. We talked again about an hour about what services I can expect from her as my community case manager. After that topic was covered, the conversation went in it's own directions. I ended up loaning her my Scientific American with the article "The Neurobiology of Child Abuse", because I thought it would interest her.
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This afternoon, I have a meeting at the Wayside Center with Harriette, my MBHP intensive case manager, a representative from the Lexington Crisis Center, a representative from the Cambridge Health Alliance, and my Lawyer. It should be interesting.
I can't deal with the piles of crap in my room. I'm trying to find anything, I'm sifting through endless piles of boxes and bags. It driving me nuts. I hate my fucking room. I should have never moved. I should have just stayed and haunted the old house_of_clocks.
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house_of_clocks.
frustrated