...yeah...anyway...i asked some advice yesterday of how to go about finding some kind of contact for 'street supplies'....very good advice given...which i have not yet had the opportunity to yet follow....'walk around and look for people who seem to be just hanging out...then ask 'what's up'...chat a bit, say i'm looking for something and ask if they can help me find it'...if you're reading this, thanks for that advice...
Monday i have that appt with my 'therapist' ...i have this feeling he's going to lecture me on the pitfalls of drugs and try and pursue a drug free nice chat approach to handling my BPD....i shall then tell him exactly what i think about that and warn him how i am on the fucking edge here, i'm fucking bordering emotional breakdown here...give me some of your fucking fixing drugs fuck sake or i will search for some good old fashioned illeagal drugs as they will help me a damn site more than you you pathetic waste of your job....shit, i should be a therapist...except i have not showered since the weekend...but hey...the weekend man!!....prior to that it had been months !!....it has been days since i last combed my hair though and my hair is long....it reaches my knees.....to stop it tangling up too much in my days of non-combing i keep it in a side 'braid' (in the UK we say 'plait) ...then i wrap it in a silk wrap and tuck it all into a baggy cap...this i will then wear all day..and night, yes i even sleep in it...but as always...i am perfectly normal and healthy..i should be working...especially in a job where i have daily contact with the general public so that i can lose it and verbally abuse them for looking at me in the wrong way, or asking me something when i'm in a 'fucking dont dare talk to me!!' frame of mind (which i should imagine would be most of the time)
everytime i leave my house i feel like a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode at somebody...i don't hate everybody....i just often feel like i do...but then i know that i shouldn't...but i do hate that french cunt who knocked me over but what can i do about that now....she should be paying me a fucking fortune for doing this to me.....i used to work y'know...i was a support worker...loved doing that, i was really good at that...i understood people in emotional difficulty, i couild relate to them and their hardships, their temperament...some of them were known to be fucking violent and unpredicatble...staff were shit scared of them...i would not show fear to them, i'd have them walk right up to me and stand and wait for them to do something rather than cower away as if they were some kind of lepper ....wtf am i typing about
FUCKING DRUGS MAN GIVE ME DRUGS
...and let me live happily ever after..
...anything would be happier than this