I think I found a potential new therapist. He is on my parents' insurance webpage and the name of the place, Fleur de Lis, stands out to me. I know I can't base my decision on just a name but I feel…drawn to the place. Maybe a male does remind me of a psychologist I had in the beginning of my battle. I really liked him. Maybe it's time I give a male counselor another chance. I suppose there are pros and cons to each.
I need someone to listen to me. I feel like it'll just take one little thing to push me too far.
Before I left school–not sure if I mentioned this–but I had a long talk with the Christian group's professor. He told me his wife is on medications for depression. He said he cared and had been praying for me…me…the thought of a professor caring about me…is strange to me. My English professor also sent a message to me wondering why I had missed the midterm…to know they cared enough to send me an email feels odd I suppose. I feel like they care more than my parents do. I feel the affection my parents show me is…robotic or without much heart. This could be my depression blinders I suppose but I feel more when a friend hugs me than my parents or family.
I still don't feel I could go back to the professor's house (he hosts a weekly Bible study). I'd feel like everyone was staring at me.
I honestly don't feel my parents understand how…empty I feel…how pointless I feel my life is. I guess dropping out of college was idiotic on my part. At least while I was there I had money that was not to be wasted (tuition and financial aid).
I guess I should have made my feelings more clear to my psychiatrist. I feel suicidal a few times a day as it is now. I try and remember what the professor said to me, about how much he cared and had been praying for me but all I remember is how hard I was trying not to lose it emotionally and tell him I don't ever get that (or feel it) outside of the group.
I just want to say f the whole thing and just give into my thoughts of self-harm and suicide. The professor told me he'd send me a message outlining the conversation so I could look back on it and know someone cares.
As of this moment, the Only reason I am…still trying is because of that conversation (or the hug that he gave me before I left the office). That hug meant more to me than anything I can recall…including the hugs from my own family. I feel like such a b**ch for saying that. I feel the hugs from family are routine and expected…I never expected the professor to give a damn.