Ch-ch-ch-changes

Turn and face the strain...


On Wednesday, my clinical coordinator told me that I'm now on half days at the program. I panicked. She said, "Oh no, oh please don't panic..." She's a very lovely woman and we get along swimmingly, so she told me how much she hates telling people they're going to have to leave.

I'm really, really worried. I had half days on Thursday and Friday, which means I missed the morning group and leave before the last group. This is difficult for one big reason - I'm not so good at having time on my hands. Mornings are especially threatening. I'm alone in the apartment, able to sleep in and hate myself for it, able to indulge in my harmful behaviors with no one to stop me. My tactic: I show up early anyway and just sit in their lobby, knitting or trying to read or wandering around the room.

Getting out early is also a problem. I don't really know what to do with myself at two in the afternoon. Usually I get a call from Becca around 3:30, which used to mean I could do some errands and then she'd suck up the rest of my time for three days straight. Now I have too much time by myself, my brain whirs, I think about all the missteps of the day and, surprise, hate myself.

I'm planning ahead, now, with help from therapists. I am going to:

1. join a gym
2. start up my novel project again
3. do something artistic every day
4. join another group for therapy
5. schedule an hour to work on job hunting every day

Only an hour, mind you, so I don't throw myself out my ground-level window. Cuz that would be silly.

I'm trying I'm trying I'm trying... But what will happen when they discharge me next Friday?