I had a therapist video appointment yesterday. I fessed up on everything. On having cut myself and relapsing over the holidays and detoxing and how close to being homeless I really am, how hard it's been to separate from my family and try to adjust to the outside world and how I don't feel I fit in with "regular" people. I don't know if it was the fact that she caught me right after having wasted, at least, 2 hours, with my roomate, hearing aout a pyramid scam, when I though I was being offered an actual art job interview, or the fact I felt more comfortable to cry at home, than I do in front of her, in her office but I let it out. I cried and cried. She said I was more depressed than she'd seen me in a while. I'm just so confused as to how to get back on my feet right now. She suggested I apply for Section 8 housing because honestly, living with my oblivious and uncooperative roommate does me more harm than provide safety. I literally am confident that I could kill mysel wih him inside the house and him not notice I died, until he happens to walk out and find me. I mean, seriously, after the session, I was distraught and overwhlemed and fetal positioned myself inside the covers in his bed and he just proceeded to play video games and laugh his ass off as I retreated internally for the rest of the day. I couldn't do it. I couldnt think anymore, I couldn't feel anymore. I needed to sleep. So I did, all the way until today. I don't feel like speaking to anybody. I was going to visit my sis up North for her birthday and finally see if I ccould see my friend, u in Gainsville. Nope. The handle of the shower faucet roke and now I have to miraculously find a way to clean up ALL of my hoarder's house, all by myself. My therapist asked if I could ask one of my guy friend's for help, who I usually do but he's moving to Orlando and, lately, if I don't contact him, he won't contact me. He says he was "just about to call me" when I do but, c'mon. Fuck that bullshit! I'm just tired of caring for people who, even if I tell them "Hey, I'm in a really desperate situation and I need your help" they just keep on goig about as if nothing's ever that serious. It's like I'm repeating a cycle of living and friending people who just don't give a shit as much as I would. Enough. It doesn't help I feel harrowingly lonely, deep down, but hey, what else is new? "What else is new?!" is exactly what I told my therapit when she told me I was very depressed. She urged me to go inppatient or at least PHP, and that if I felt I was going to harm myself, go to the ER. I have been half a mind to send her the pictures of my ounds, when I did them and how fast I was able to recover and even dimisnish my scars, with the self-care I gave myself. Aloe and Biotin can work wonders! However, she stated "That's not acceptable", when I told her I had a problem with going to the ER and that I could bandage myself up fine and recoer and live the next day. I UNDERSTAND. In her position,I take me somewhere too. I just want support. I need help. This Mental Health Center near home takes orever to let ou into a program. I don't have money to rent anywhere. Appart from my therapist, really, I don't have a real, present support system. I bet my friend from Gainsville is mad at me as hell because really, I don't even know how to be a full-fledged, independent adult. Fuuuuuuck!!! All I get is judgement and neglect. Sure, I have to take care of myself. But what the fuck does that mean when you don't have enough cash for food, clothes, shelter or an accredited education and you'redisabled? I am trying to do the right thing. I'm scared of ending up in a scary publichospital. I just don't know what to do any more. I guess I'll start y looking for Section 8 housing, possibly going to a food pantry and asking my roomate for some small form of help in cleaning up the mess that is our house. I'm tired of living in such a wretched, abandoned way.