My intake assessment is tomorrow. It’s so close, but so elusively far. I’m nervous and scared and hopeful, and scared of being hopeful.
I’m afraid they’ll tell me they can’t or won’t help me. I’m afraid they will help me. I need this. I know I need this. Yet it terrifies me.
I’ve been fighting the last few days to hang on. When I get this kind of build up of anticipation, my anxiety goes through the roof. I’ve done a lot of binging and purging and laxatives, but I’ve been trying not to cut, and I’ve been fighting the strong urge to overdose.
I just need an answer. One way or the other, I need to know what’s going to happen. I don’t do well when I don’t know. I don’t like not having things planned out. The unknown and uncertainty drive me nuts.
I’ve only slept 2 hours in the last few days. I’m sure that’s not helping any.