Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Move, Bitch

I went to see another caseworker at the psych clinic today. She's going to help me find an interim job until I can pass my damned practical exam. She may even help with housing. I know I have a place to live, but it's only a room, not a whole living space where I could keep my children.

Speaking of place to live, I move in on Sunday. I'm going to Killeen and packing as much as I can in my car and then unpack in Round Rock. I should do this early so the heat won't get to me. It can get difficult in a car with no A/C driving in Texas heat. I'm anxious for this move. I think it will be good for me.

Friday, September 23, 2016

What's New

Things are happening.
1. The trip to the hospital was, thankfully, a short visit. Even though I had an episode one day, they had me go home a couple days later. They took me off my wellbutrin all together, upped my prozac, and kept my zyprexa normal.
2. To continue, the urge to steal is minimal. I still get the urge, but I don't give in. I caved a little today, but it was the first time since being home from the hospital and I only took one thing. I know that's still bad, but it's better than it was.
3. I went to my friend, Tina's, house for the autumn equinox and she told me she has a room available. So, yay, I have a place to live in that's close to the kids. She lives about twenty minutes away in Round Rock and only 10 minutes away from where I plan to work at.
4. Currently completely out of money. I'm pretty much stranded here at J's, but it's fine. J, having been fired last month, is having the time of his life being home, but he's broke as shit and is starting to panic. Unemployment will *maybe* hit on Monday

That is all.

Sunday, September 04, 2016

Shit

Had a serious schizo episode and am sitting in the ER. I don't know where I am. I don't know how I got here even though I drove myself. I'm confused and scared and angry. Just keeping you posted.

Stuff

Finally got caught shoplifting,  so I'm no longer allowed into any local Targets. On Tuesday I'm going to call my psych and see if they can do something about the urge. The security lady even told me I look zoned out, detached. She had apparently spoken to me once before, which I don't even remember.

I hope this gets taken care of. I'm addicted to the rush, but I don't want to go to jail. I feel so fucking stupid.