Soon to be another year

 I don't have much to day. This is mostly the obligatory entry to tell you I am still alive. After the last post, I did (I think) attempt suicide again. There was enough alcohol involved, I don't know with certainty that I took the pills. I did cause a great deal of worry because I left a suicide note for my parents and sent an email to my former residential therapist and my IOP therapist. I survived obviously. I ended up inpatient for a week and then in rehab again. I knew from the beginning that was pointless, but it's so difficult to find any sort of residential or long term treatment for mental health because insurance thinks that a few days in a psych ward should stabilize you for outpatient treatment.. yet they'll pay for several weeks treatment for substance abuse. Anyway, I spent a month at a facility I had been to before and the whole thing was a battle to get to see a psychiatrist and get the doctor to do anything with my meds. She didn't seem comfortable since I have tried so many meds before, but I am just pleading with her (over video chat) that I cannot function the way things are so she has to do something. My therapist was a jackass.. and his specialty is personality disorders. I admit that I think I have BPD, and he agreed. He just kept blaming everything I did on the BPD and blaming the depression on the BPD. He told me I make myself sad for attention. Less than a week before I discharged I had a really bad depression day and said some concerning, hopeless things to the techs.. they got worried and contacted the weekend therapist. She was sweet and talked to me and also talked a lot to me about what I want to do in the future and even did some career test with me. Anyway, my therapists response was to ask if something happened that day or did I just want some attention? Wtf? He also said I need to stop weaponizing my depression.. and that was when I was 2 weeks free from self harm, which is about the only behavior I think that could apply to. His comments basically left me afraid to tell anyone I was struggling because it would prove him right if I asked for any sort of help or attention. I would cry sitting in the very corner of my bed so no one could see me walking by. 

In the end, the depression was as bad as when I got there.. and I'm still a bit scared of what I might do. I have an assessment for an IOP monday that I hope will help.. I think there's a chance I will be sent back IP if I'm honest about the suicidal thoughts and hopelessness. On top of everything wrong with this rehab, they sent me home with totally wrong medication instructions and without some of my meds.. so I'm not able to take one of them until I can get in contact with someone there or see my outpatient psych. The other missing med I can sort of work out with what I have at home.. but seriously? What if I didn't know what I should be taking like a lot of people and actually followed the instructions? I mean I felt really rushed when she handed me the meds, so it's my fault for not reading it carefully.. but there's no excuse for the mistakes they made in the instructions. So things are not exactly going well right now, but I am alive and at home for now. I am happier to be here than suffering like that in rehab. My anxiety was so bad I only left my room for groups (sometimes) and meals that I ate in like 5 minutes. I was crying several times a day. It was a mess.. 

As far as the title of the entry.. my birthday is this month. I really don't feel good about that either. I have had 4 suicide attempts this year. I have been in 3 rehabs, 3 inpatient stays, 2 IOPs, 3 medical hospitals/ERs. This has not been a good year, and things aren't exactly looking up. 

Apathy

I am still stuck in this pattern of considering actions that will help make it easier if I decide to go through with the plan (to go get a bunch of pills and alcohol and a hotel room). I haven't booked the hotel. I mostly keep debating what day I would leave. Today I decided I should change a few passwords because I think my parents could log on to my computer if I didn't. I'm not sure if they have caught on to the fact that I used one password for a lot of accounts. I was trying to decide if they'd be able to get onto my bank website and see where I used my card and how to avoid that.

I am still wavering between apathy and depression. Also there's a bit of general frustration and irritation with my parents and their usually bickering. The rest of the time I am pretty numb. The things I currently look forward to are.. the hotel room.. alcohol.. some kind of food. I honestly have decided that I am unlikely to order food delivered because I never end up with much appetite. I'm leaning toward picking up some basic snacks at the pharmacy when I get pills or the liquor store (it's surprising the interesting snacks this particular store has). It will depend on how much energy and anxiety I have. I have officially finished notes/emails to 1.my current case manager 2. my case manager from residential 3. the therapist from the previous rehab and obviously 4. my family.

But I'm not that depressed? I also did an assignment for IOP. I did an online Refuge Recovery meeting. I read a recovery related book and highlighted some interesting things. I read the nice notes people wrote for me before leaving rehab. I took all my medications today. I don't know what the fuck is going on with me. I think I long to self destruct because I want to feel something. There is no desperation or deep emotional pain. I'm just tired, and I just don't care anymore. I don't know what will make me care or give me any hope or goals for a future. I don't think there is going to be a very long future, so why try? I am just surviving, but I am surviving.

Mismatched

**Trigger Warning**

I am bothered tonight and choosing to write about the amazing differences between my thoughts and my actions or my thoughts and my words.. or for that matter my actions and my words. Pretty much, the inconsistencies are growing by the day, and I am unsure how concerned I should be (I'm guessing greatly disturbed).

I saw my new therapist from IOP for an individual session today. The things she said and the way she was sitting there made me feel like I was being studied. I'm not sure how to explain this. Most of the time therapists just look like their listening to you like a relatively normal human being. There is a different way people look at you when you're acting unusual or unique in some way. She mainly seemed fascinated by how calmly and unemotionally I was able to discuss my suicidal thoughts and the last 3 suicide attempts. I guess most people would get emotional? For me it's all matter of fact.. it happened, it didn't work, and it seems pretty likely to happen again eventually. She actually asked some very intelligent questions and make some very reasonable observations. She understood when I talked about calling 911 that I didn't suddenly come to the realization that I wanted to live. It was more like I realized it wasn't happening quickly or like I wanted (or I didn't think it was going to work) or the 2nd time that I didn't feel like wandering the streets of Dallas at night with no phone and no money hoping to die. It was more like that attempt wasn't going right, and I needed to stop and try again. We talked about why my method has always been the same because I hope I will just fall asleep and if the powers that be (God or other humans) intervene I will wake up and if that's not meant to happen I won't.

I was not entirely honest about what's going on though.. I mean she asked me to rate on a scale of 1 to 10 the likelihood of me acting on the thoughts today. I said 3 because today it was very unlikely to happen. I neglected to explain the amount of thought I have been putting into the plan and some things I have done that might be concerning. Mainly I have two files on my computer.. 1 is a suicide note of sorts and 1 is a list of hotels/addresses/pharmacy etc that might be needed if I decide to do it. I didn't mention that during IOP I have trouble focusing, so I sit and look up the hotels and the prices and what sort of restaurants deliver food there. She seemed to find it interesting that I plan out the food because I think she thought I was planning to binge, but it's just like how prisoners on death row get to choose their last meal. That also includes planning my last drinks.

Tonight we can add to the list of concerning behaviors printing some reading material on DNR orders because on 2 of the last attempts at least I was intubated, and I'm wondering if I can prevent that.. although the form I printed has a place for a doctor to sign that I was competent when I signed the form but have shown evidence of being incompetent later.. and I don't know if a suicide attempt would automatically indicate you are not mentally competent to make such decisions. I haven't done anything with the form. I just want to look into it.

So yeah.. I am not all that depressed tonight. I am kind of numb and sometimes almost a bit happy. I've had casual conversations about random things with my parents. Everyone at IOP said I seemed more upbeat than last time. I had to carefully choose words to explain that I was less depressed but in all honesty, I am not well. I didn't want to explain the searches and obsessive things I was researching while listening to everyone else check in. I didn't want to say earlier that I was entirely unlikely to act on anything tonight, but it isn't a good sign when I tackle some obstacle standing between me and the actual act. There was another thing I did but it isn't a definite indication of intention to act because I reason that it can be undone if I change my mind later. I wrote all this and thought of another thing I did that I haven't told her... actually it has to do with a semi-lie I told the other day when she was asking questions after group trying to gauge how suicidal I was.

The more and more I try to explain this, the more removed I feel from my feelings. Does that make sense? I suppose tomorrow I may email my therapist if I am still concerned. I think I should sleep on it and see how I feel tomorrow.

Small talk

I started IOP last night. It's through the same center I did residential at, although it's online right now because of covid. I am struggling with it. We did a check in last night and I said I was depressed. I otherwise basically summarized my current situation (that I just got out of residential over the weekend) but didn't go into the whole mess that led up to me being in rehab this time. That's a bit heavy to bring up so soon, and I need to know people a bit better before I talk about anything involving suicidal thoughts. I guess it was an ok group.. I couldn't focus. My head was off in the worst kind of obsession. I was looking up hotels for if I run away again.. I looked at prices and pictures to see if the rooms would have a fridge and a microwave. I made sure they'd have wi-fi. Then I looked up what sorts of restaurants deliver food there. I already had figured out some hotels within walking distance of a liquor store.. and close enough to a pharmacy and other stores for other necessary supplies. I was looking at all this with IOP open in the background. I was listening, but I was in my head.

Well, today I tried to listen to IOP.. but it was not helpful. Somehow during check ins they got off on discussing one of the women needing to get her hair done and her telling a story of a time she spent a ridiculous amount of money getting her hair done. This went on for probably 15 minutes. Meanwhile, I am sitting there fighting back tears. I am sitting there with the depression closing in and the ever present suicidal thoughts, and they're just chatting. I had to leave and get a tissue. At the end of the group, the therapist was asking about what people like about the group and what they'd find helpful. Several people talked about how they like the small talk because they get to know each other better. Someone talked about wanting people to be more open. It got around to me.. and I basically said I didn't know what to say. I said that I have realized in the past couple days how unready I was to leave residential. I said so much hadn't gotten better, so I am very pessimistic about treatment. At this point, I was crying.. and everyone was supportive. They said they hadn't realized I was struggling. I don't know.. I said something about just not wanting to end up back in the hospital.

So of course, the therapist was concerned. I had to convince her I wasn't actively suicidal (which is a lie) and was safe tonight (which is true). I tried to explain that I just don't know what to do.. and how my next psych appointment is late in August. She asked if I was out of my meds, I said no.. they just aren't helping. So I think this will all get brought up in treatment team, and I am honestly just hoping I don't get sent to a psych ward. Residential was helpful, but the psych ward wasn't. I just don't know how to sit there in IOP like it helps to chat cheerfully with everyone when I am sinking. I can't explain that I can put on a brave face and act fine but then continue with actions that clearly indicate something is wrong (writing notes, doing research, etc). But I'm ok tonight. I just don't know what will happen if this doesn't get better. Tonight I just want to go to sleep. I see the therapist individually on Thursday, so at least I'll have a chance to talk more then. I just don't like putting anything so heavy on the other patients, so I hope that I can be honest with the therapist at least.

3 months

I am considering using my blog again now after all that's happened the past several months. I will start with a summary of this year.

February- 1st suicide attempt of the year. This is the one that I took pills while black out drunk and woke up in the hospital. I was in the medical hospital for a week followed by 5 days inpatient and a few weeks IOP. (days in hospital 12)

April- toward the end of March I got kicked out of IOP for relapsing with alcohol. They recommended I go to rehab before I could come back, so off to rehab I went. (days in 28)

May- I spent 28 days in rehab, and I was continuously telling them my depression was getting worse and so were the suicidal thoughts. I had a plan in my head, and I only couldn't do it because if I left they said they'd call the cops (because I was suicidal). Well, they started talking about transferring me to a psych facility, but my therapist was terrible about communicating what was going on. I got angry with him for leaving 2 days in a row after I agreed to transfer somewhere without telling me what was going on with the transfer. I asked to leave AMA, and various people at the facility panicked even though I never even got so far as to sign the AMA form. I once again agreed to be transferred, but they went ahead and called the cops anyway instead of doing what we had agreed on. I end up having a cop show up for a welfare check and then went to a psych hospital for an evaluation. I lied about how I was doing, and I had hoped I could go back to rehab. Well, that didn't happen. They called my parents to come get me and said the facility wasn't appropriate for me.

So I was home for 1 night and then was supposed to go to a psych hospital. I convinced my parents to drop me off and went in for my evaluation. I changed my mind during the seemingly endless waiting and dealing with some very rude people at this hospital. I told them I didn't want to go in, and I was safe to leave. I left and got a hotel room. I drank for a night or two.. it's a bit blurry. I changed hotels because I somehow lost track of what day it was and when I was supposed to check out. I got to the 2nd hotel and took a lot of pills.. both prescription and Tylenol PM. I sat around waiting for them to do something, and I panicked. I called 911.. I remember the ambulance coming (and the paramedics were really cute). I kept trying to explain what I took and answer questions and them saying I wasn't making sense. I was taken to the ER, and I don't really remember much of the couple days I was in the hospital. I guess I was intubated at some point, and my liver was in really bad shape. Somehow when I was conscious again I convinced them to let me leave AMA. I went to Walmart planning to buy more pills. I managed to leave my phone in the Lyft and didn't know where my debit card was. I end up shoplifting a bottle of tylenol PM and wandering around the area taking them and trying to decide what to do. I was somewhere in Dallas with no real clue how to get anywhere and no phone. I finally borrow a phone from someone in the parking lot of a gas station (after actually asking a cop for help and being told he was too busy to even call for an ambulance) and get taken by ambulance to the same hospital I left earlier that day. I repeat the process of drinking charcoal and being given all sorts of meds.. and that's all a blur. I agree to go to a psych hospital once my liver is back to being ok. (days in hospital 5)

May/June- I spend 18 days in a psych hospital where they try to sort out my meds. I am crying daily and suicidal. I get talked into going to a residential facility because clearly I need more help. They only agree to let me leave if I go straight there. I actually planned to agree to be picked up by the facility staff and then say I changed my mind and go kill myself, but I somehow got talked into actually going to the next rehab. (days in hospital 18)

June/July- I went to a residential facility that does dual diagnosis (alcohol and mental health) and actually also eating disorders. I had been sober 3 weeks when I got there, but my depression was still out of control. I spent the first 3 days crying pretty much constantly. I eventually started going to groups and doing assignments, and I really tried despite the depression being bad. My therapist kept trying to argue there's something in my childhood I need to deal with that's causing the depression, and I kept arguing that there might be but the pressing issue is that I was suicidal and self harming daily (and purging but didn't mention that). So I managed to spend over 45 days there and the depression is still bad, but insurance says no more residential. I have mixed feelings about leaving. I don't think I'm ready, but I also feel like it wasn't getting better anyway so I was wasting time. At least here at home, I have my cats and my parents. I have been home just that one day since I first went to rehab in April. Total days in hospital/inpatient/residential 63 so far this year.. and I start IOP again on Monday. I am pretty burnt out

what even is my life?

I just felt like posting. I am currently going a bit insane being home all the time with my parents. My dad is working from home because of the COVID 19 situation, so both parents are home. They act like everything is normal, but to me it's constantly frusrating. I don't know how they seem to be able to discount their arguments and not see it as a bigger issue. Like.. all I ever hear about their therapy sessions is them talking about day to day life and not about the obvious issues between them. It basically comes down to them both being very passive aggressive people (and where did they think I learned that?). Every disagreement is handled with either silence, little sharp remarks, or actual arguments. It's usually about everyday activities.. like the biggest ones since my dad has been at home have been about meals (... writing that makes me wonder how that played into my ED). My dad himself has issues with food.. he eats compulsively and snacks constantly but then if we suggest any meal besides like salad.. we're trying to sabotage his efforts to lose weight. It bothers me because I will honestly suggest a meal at a restaurant that is lower calorie (printed right on the menu) than the salad he's ordering.. because he adds cheese and meat and creamy dressings, but he'll say he just wants a salad. At home, the meals we have aren't that unhealthy.. it's the snacking on nuts and candy all evening that adds hundreds of calories. All of this would be less frustrating if he made any major contribution to meal planning. He's been wanting us to all sit down to lunch as a family, which we never do. But he won't tell us what he wants to eat for lunch and I have to pry that info out of him so we can go shopping. He won't eat most of what we buy but doesn't tell us what to get. Plus, we have to somehow time our 3 separate food choices to be done at one time.. normally my mom and I just eat our own food at roughly lunch time and only really ask the other if they want something to be cooked when the other is making theirs. 

He keeps going back and forth about the way people are stocking up because of the virus. At first, he said we needed to have a weeks worth of food at home. I commented that if we weren't picky, we had that.. it just meant having to eat canned soup and maybe having to come up with meals using the rice and beans and everything else in the pantry. But we stocked up on frozen meals because my mom and I will eat them for lunch anyway. He will rant about people creating shortages because they're panicking.. but then decide to buy 3 bags of flour when we only have 2 at home.. and don't bake that often. 

Me.. the conflict is getting to me. Being trapped at home is getting to me. I was doing IOP but that's now done online, so I don't get to go out except to shop with my mom. My job.. who knows. They talked about adding me back to the schedule in April, but then I finally asked about it because I hadn't heard anything and I guess the kennel is closed for now. I am hoping that means people will quit, and if this all blows over they will need me. I mostly see no point actively job hunting when so many businesses are limited or closed. It just means I am stuck at home. I started trying to go for walks outside to get some fresh air and quiet. That turned into going for "walks" and getting a Lyft ride to the liquor store. I am just ambivalent about everything. I don't feel committed to sobriety. I kind of hope I will get kicked out. I am very pessimistic about the future.. not just because of my mental health but because of the corona virus and the tanking economy and the environment going to hell. I kind of think the world will end in my lifetime if I manage not to kill myself. But I just keep getting out of bed and going through the motions anyway because it's not so bad as to try to end things. 

I hope everyone is well in these hard times. You're all in my thoughts. I worry more about others than myself these days. 

Awkward therapy appointment

So I had therapy today for the first time in several weeks. I cancelled my appointment the day before the whole motel thing happened because I was avoiding my parents. Then I was in the hospital for two weeks. 

I got to update her on the whole suicide attempt and everything after. I admitted that I have been reading all the test results from the hospital and today the itemized bill to get an idea what happened during the parts I don't remember. This includes at least one seizure.. probably more judging by the amount of lorazepam I was billed for. I also was on anticonvulsants. I had a couple abnormal ECGs and really elevated creatine kinase and a diagnosis of rhabdomyolysis which is caused by breakdown of muscle and can cause kidney damage. That actually explains how much trouble I had sitting up and why they kept telling me to lay back down. Anyway, I feel sort of happy that I was so sick because I hate the idea of attempting and having no damage. It makes me feel like a waste of people's time. We talked about the fact that I have no plans to do anything right now, but I always have a backup plan. I always kind of assume that eventually I will succeed. There's just a sort of hopelessness that never goes away. 

It was all kind of awkward. I don't normally talk about the suicidal thoughts. I don't know why I did today. 

I had to email my job twice to get them to finally tell me they hired a replacement for me. I still got emailed the schedule, and they asked for doctors notes... So how was I supposed to know? Now I keep thinking of passive aggressively telling the office manager that I tried to kill myself if anyone asks how I am doing(they don't really know the details) because I am angry at how this was handled. They have every right to fire me since I didn't call in sick. I just didn't show. But they should have just told me. They mentioned in the email how much it inconvenienced them, but I have decided not to feel guilty for how I inconvenienced anyone. If I was in such a bad place that I wanted to die, I was not doing it to hurt people. I won't feel guilty for a suicide attempt. I did what felt like my only option at the time. 

So I am still feeling pretty down. I am mostly ambivalent about life right now. I am tired... It might be my meds. I am sick of being around my parents all the time. I just want a day where I don't have to talk to anyone. I also really want a drink. I am still existing though...

This is my life...

So I don't always include a trigger warning... but yeah.. trigger warning on this.

The last 2 weeks have been hell.. aided only by the fact that I don't remember several days at all. That's also a bad thing. So on Feb 12th (if I am getting this right), I drank a lot on my lunch at work and ended up throwing up all over myself on the way home from dinner with my parents. They were understandably angry, so I ended up hiding in my room through that night and the next day. Then comes the bit I only barely remember.

February 14th (only recently realized it was Valentines day) I got a motel room for myself. I don't really remember if my parents had gone out or how I managed to leave without them stopping me. I know that I bought alcohol. I think I must have turned my phone off or ignored it because I have a ton of missed texts from them and from work over the 3 days I was there. All I remember from the motel is that I ordered pizza and it got there and I didn't want it. It ended up just sitting on the table and I picked at it a little. I think I ordered other food another day. I was there for 3 days. The only other thing I remember is trying to walk and falling down a lot.. like my legs are covered in scabs. I remember being afraid someone in another room would think there was a fight going on or something else happening because I kept trying to walk (I think to the bathroom) and then hitting the floor.

So I don't remember the rest of what happened. Apparently, I OD'd on my meds at some point, and on the 17th ended up having someone call the police and being taken by ambulance to the ER. I was in the ICU at first and then a medical ward. I know my chart says I was hallucinating. I mainly remember them trying to get me to stay in the bed.. and when they'd tell me to like sit up or roll on my side I could hardly do it. My body wouldn't cooperate. I was in that hospital for 5 days. I obviously didn't deal with any of the texts from work during that time. The last night I was supposed to stay and then see psych the next morning. I had the brilliant idea to check myself out AMA.

Except, they didn't give me my wallet when I left. I think it was with hospital security or on another floor or something.. so I only left with my phone, my ID, and my insurance card. I was also wearing those disposable hospital scrubs and socks. I tried to figure out how to get a hotel room and then hopefully finish the job but couldn't figure out what to do without my wallet. I walked to Walmart and tried to figure out if I could buy a prepaid visa card or something using my phone. I finally gave up and called my parents. They took me home.. but were obviously angry.

The next morning, I got up and tried to leave again. I even scheduled the Lyft ride and a motel room. My dad was awake and stopped me. He and my mom talked me into going inpatient. I packed a bag and they took me to the ER. I was there for 5 hours before being transferred to a psych hospital.

It was not the greatest hospital.. but I was cooperative. They changed my meds. I went to the groups. I do feel somewhat better. I mean.. I want to drink, but I am no longer actively suicidal. They only kept me 5 days, and my parents weren't happy about that. In my defense, I never asked to be sent home or even questioned when I would be discharged. So either they felt I was ready or my insurance didn't want to approve more days. I spent a fair amount of time trying to remember what happened during those blackout days. It was watching TV commercials that I remembered the pizza sitting on the table.. and looking at the scabs on my legs that I remembered falling down. The rest is still a blank.

My parents managed to get my wallet from the hospital, but my laptop wasn't there. So I got to awkwardly call the motel and thankfully they still had it. The motel manager said he was glad I was alright.. which made me feel guilty.

I had the social worker send a letter to work saying I was in the hospital. I then at some point while IP checked my voicemail using one of the unit phones.. so I got to hear the missed voicemails from the office manager. I ended up calling her.. and she said the vet had said I was in the hospital. I am unsure if he knew because of the letter or if I called.. but the only call listed on my phone was February 14th, which is before the hospital. So anyway.. she said he had asked her to call the next day and check on me. She said I would need to get doctors notes for the time I was gone.. so I guess I haven't been fired? I sent her one doctors note (from the psych hospital and it awkwardly says Haven Behavioral Center on it.. so obviously a psych hospital) and then part of the discharge notice from the other because I hadn't thought to get a note because I wasn't exactly in my right mind while in the medical hospital.. but I have documentation of when I was there. I just had to carefully edit out any of the details about why because I am still hoping to just say it was depression and not bring up the alcoholism or at least the extent of the alcoholism. I don't know. I haven't heard back from her yet, but it's the weekend. It's going to be awkward any way I handle it because it's a long time to unexpectedly be out.

My parents want me to find some kind of intensive outpatient now... they don't think 5 days in the hospital was enough therapy. I feel like I have done enough therapy over the past 18 years that I am not going to learn anything new. I will look into it tomorrow. The social worker at the hospital was pretty useless as far as referrals. She just gave me info for that hospital's IOP (and I was not impressed by that place), one that doesn't take insurance, and one that would interfere with work and I specifically asked for an evening IOP. I am currently considering paying out of pocket for the one that doesn't take insurance because it at least sounds like it involves some different therapies. One place mentions yoga and I have no interest in that. I know there's more out there than what she gave me, so now that I have my computer I can look into it. Today I am taking it easy.

Currently debating if I go back to work if I am going to tell people why I was in the hospital or just say I was in the hospital. If I say I tried to kill myself, at least they'll probably not ask more questions.. but that's probably awkward. If I just say I was in the hospital, that could lead to gossip and questions about why.. and saying I am not comfortable talking about it won't help. I don't think my parents want me going back to work full time, but in my opinion the whole point of IOP is to keep you busy. Work would keep me busy and earn money instead of costing money.

I don't know. Thank you if you got to the end of this. I needed to vent because there's a lot going through my head and I don't get to talk about it. 

pictures

Me and the cat that belongs to a coworker. My expression is because I had to explain it's not nice to try to eat my face

My kids 

Still fighting

I am sorry I haven't been active. I guess I thought my posts were repetitive. I have since my last post gotten settled in a new house with my parents and found a new job. My insurance changed and my new therapist encouraged journalling. 

My eating disorder and self harm are still pretty much gone. My drinking is not. I had one major binge that resulted in me falling several times and many bruises and maybe a broken nose (never saw a doctor) and one where I blacked out and couldn't remember most of the day. Otherwise, I am drinking less. I missed a couple days of work with that first binge and also had to wear a lot of makeup because I work at a veterinary clinic and the vet asked about my nose and if I had an X ray. 

My parents have confronted me a few times about the drinking, but they haven't suggested inpatient. Honestly, I would go if money wasn't an issue. Most of the time they act like everything is fine. They are still arguing a lot, which is a big trigger. They're in therapy, but I feel like it's not helping. I would be a hypocrite if I questioned it. 

I now work in the kennel at a veterinary clinic. I love the animals.. the people are a challenge. I got a rough start because I had only worked a few days before calling in sick or leaving early because the drinking made me too weak to work. I feel like no one talks about (or maybe experiences) how a drinking binge leaves you unable to spend time not in bed. This meant I felt awkward around everyone and didn't feel comfortable talking to them. I work a lot with a guy who is lazy and expects me to do most of the work. Other people have noticed and talked to the owner/vet about it. One person has told me to boss him around, but they don't pay me enough to supervise someone who has worked there longer than me. I just pick up the slack and hope they can see how hard I am working. The vet recently told me how good I am doing. I still feel drawn to work with animals. I think my life helps me understand their anxiety. I have had validation when a dog I affectionately called a little jerk (it's all about tone of voice) always wanted to be with me and barked to keep other dogs away from me. I talk to them because it seems reassuring. I am not as rough with them as one guy is. I give them a kiss on the forehead if they are good for their bath. I am still a cat person because cats are low maintenance and independent, but the dog cuddles seriously keep me going. I actually feel like I am good at this, but I don't think it pays enough to live on. I am thinking about becoming a vet tech. That or I need a job that would make it possible to have my own place and more rescue cats. 

So I will try to update more. I think it helps me organize my thoughts. I just want to get to where I enjoy life and don't just function.